


Don't Fear the Reaper

by indiepjones46



Series: Death Becomes Her [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: -Ish, All the cool kids are doing it, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAMF Karen Page, Bareback Sex, Be cool and read it, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't worry I write fast, Emotional Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frank can be kind of an asshole, Not Your Typical Love Story, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Porny porn porn, Post Season 1 The Punisher, Spoilers, Triggers, UDS (Unnecessarily Detailed Smut), Work In Progress, all the awesome curse words used judiciously, because otherwise what's the point, but with feelings too, i love porn, kastle - Freeform, seriously it's bloody, sexy sex, you go girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiepjones46/pseuds/indiepjones46
Summary: Three months. It had been three months since Karen had watched Frank disappear through the elevator shaft a bloody and broken mess. No calls, no news, and his name had disappeared from the headlines. Once again, she was on her own, but she was not defenseless. She had a new gun, and she was not afraid to use it to protect herself...and others.He had tried to stay away from her for three months. He knew that danger dogged his footsteps, and he didn't want it anywhere near her. That didn't mean he wasn't looking out for her, though. He had monitored her from a distance, but all that changed when he heard the call go out over the police scanner.





	1. Karen Needs a Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own or profit from trademarked property. Just playin', y'all.
> 
> Beta: just me. I try to catch any mistakes on my numerous read-throughs, even after posting.
> 
> Notes: I loved Frank Castle from the first scene he was in during Daredevil Season 2. If you've read some of my other fandom works, you will know that I love nothing more than a bad guy with a good heart. I am a sucker for a redeemable villain like Leonard Snart or Bucky Barnes, so Frank Castle was a perfect fit for my over-active imagination. I also grew to respect Karen Page's character. She is flawed, but strong, and vulnerable, but brave. This ship was a no-brainer for me from the beginning. 
> 
> Just a few quick warnings: despite my pitiful attempt at humor, my tags are no joke. When I say there will be blood, there will blood. If I say there will explicit sex, then there will be unnecessarily detailed smut. There is also an attempted mugging/rape, gun violence, and breaking and entering. If none of that stops you from reading, then you are tacitly agreeing to be cool and share positive vibes in your comments. I consider everyone who takes the time to comment to be a new friend, and I reply to everyone. I love to chat, and I have met the coolest people ever on this site. Shout out to my soul sister, [CowandCalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowandCalf/pseuds/CowandCalf)! Come join the love fest, y'all.

_Hell's Kitchen, mid-November, 9:47 pm_

 

Karen Page walked down the busy New York sideway with her head down and her hand buried in her purse where she could touch the reassuring cold metal of her new gun. This one was smaller than the last, but still just as deadly. She had lost her last gun during the aftermath of the bombings at the hotel where she had gone to interview Senator Ori. Karen took her gun-ownership seriously. She knew the power of life and death that she carried in her purse, and she spent many hours at the gun range practicing her aim. She never wanted to be caught off-guard and unprotected again.

The bombing and kidnapping by Lewis had happened over three months ago, but the proof of that night still bore witness in the fading scars on her body. That night was just another traumatic memory to add to all the rest that Karen had endured, but her dreams were full of more than just fear, blood, and the sounds of gunfire; they were full of Frank Castle, too. Haunting, ghostly dreams of Frank, covered in blood with dark eyes that glowed with righteous hellfire, played out in her sleep each night. He was big, brutal, fearless, and unflinching in the face of death. He was both an avenging angel and demon from hell, but Karen never felt as safe as she did when in his presence. Since the last time she saw him slipping through the elevator shaft, his image had remained burned in her thoughts.

The evening was brisk with the November breeze filtering through her long, strawberry-blonde hair. The crowd was thinning out the closer she got to her apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, but she didn’t mind. This was her city just as much as it was anyone else’s, and she was done being afraid to walk its streets. As she approached the noisy entrance to Josie’s Bar, she contemplated stopping for a drink, but when she reached the door, she kept on walking past it. Going to Josie’s brought up too many painful memories of Foggy and Matt. She couldn’t handle the pain of their abandonment tonight. Besides, she had gotten into the habit of drinking alone, safe behind the five locks on her door. It was easier that way. Fewer distractions from her thoughts.

Half a block from her building, the streets grew darker and quieter. Karen’s steps rang out on the concrete at an increased rate, and her heart followed suit. She hated that familiar feeling crawling up her spine and standing every hair on edge, but she had been through enough in her life to know she shouldn’t dismiss it. Danger was close, and she was alone. Her senses went on high-alert, and her gaze darted around the streets searching for signs of trouble. Her hearing sharpened, and that was when she heard it.

Between her apartment building and the laundromat next door was a narrow ally filled with dumpsters and cardboard boxes, and she could hear scuffling noises and the muffled sounds of a woman sobbing. Karen crept to the corner of the ally, and her fingers curled around the grip of the Glock 42 as she drew the weapon from her purse. With the muzzle pointed at the ground, Karen snuck into the alleyway, ducking behind boxes, as she drew closer to the struggle.

“Please, please!” a woman’s tear-stained voice begged. “Just take my purse and go. You can have it all if you just go!”

Karen peeked from behind her vantage point and saw a man holding a knife to her throat. The man was in the shadows, and Karen couldn’t make out his features, but his voice was full of cold menace when he replied, “It’s not your purse I’m after.”

The blade of his knife glinted in the soft glow of the neon sign from the laundromat, and Karen’s heart raced as she watched him drag the knife through the woman’s cleavage. Oh, no. Oh, hell no. Without pausing to consider the consequences, Karen stood to her feet and pointed the gun directly at his head.

“Let her go, or I will splatter your brains all over that poor woman,” Karen snapped, her voice tight with fear and fury.

Both heads turned toward her with surprise, but the man recovered quickly. He pulled the woman tighter and held the knife to the vulnerable arch of her neck. “I can slice her open before you even pull the trigger. Besides, I don’t even think you’ll even-“

The gunshot was surprisingly loud in the narrow confines of the bricked alley. Karen watched with clinical detachment as the man howled with pain and dropped the knife. He fell back from the sobbing woman and clutched his arm to his chest. “Fuck! You shot me in the shoulder, you bitch!”

Karen’s aim on him didn’t waver as she replied shakily, “Lucky for you. I was aiming for your head.” Her gaze darted over to the frightened woman cowering against the brick wall. “Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Her wide eyes locked on Karen and she shook her head mutely. She looked so young. She looked just like Karen did when she had first moved to New York five years past. “N-no, he didn’t hurt me...yet.”

Karen moved until she stood between the cursing mugger and the young woman and called over her shoulder, “You can leave. Go call the cops.”

The young woman didn’t think twice before she rabbited away and left Karen alone with a dangerous man. It wasn’t the first time that she had found herself in this position, but this time, she had the upper hand from the start.

The man snorted and stumbled back to his feet until he was standing a stone’s throw away from the barrel of Karen’s gun. “You think you can stop me from leaving, little girl? You willing to kill me in cold blood as I walk away unarmed?”

Karen thought about it for a moment before replying, “No, but I am willing to shoot you in the leg this time, but that might not turn out too well for you. We both know my aim is off.”

The tension between the two of them grew thick and fraught, and Karen’s blood buzzed with adrenaline. Her focus sharpened, her hand quit trembling, and she took a calm, deep breath before letting it back out slowly. “You know, I could just go ahead and kill you now. You would be gone, erased from existence. One less piece of shit on the streets of my city. Hell, the DA will probably thank me for taking you off her caseload.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he rasped, his tone lacking the former confidence.

Karen’s finger curled lovingly around the trigger as she replied coldly, “Why do men like you keep assuming that I’ve never shot someone before?”

The man cradled his bleeding shoulder and shrank away from her. “What do you want from me, you crazy bitch?”

Karen used her gun to gesture to his pocket. “Toss your wallet on the ground, and I’ll let you get a head start on the police. Take it or leave it.”

The man spit foul curses as he awkwardly retrieved the fat wallet from his back pocket. He tossed it at her feet, and she warily circled behind him so that he had a clear shot to the exit from the alley. He searched for a sign of weakness that he could exploit, but he found none in her. He turned away from her and ran as the sound of sirens began to echo through the night.

With a sigh of relief, Karen lowered her weapon and waited in silence for several unending moments to see if he would come back. When she knew he wouldn’t return, she retrieved the man’s wallet from the ground and shoved it into her purse along with her gun. With only seconds to spare, she slipped into her building through the emergency exit. For once, she was grateful that her landlady was too cheap to hire someone to fix the security door that had been damaged years ago during the Attack on New York. Thanks to shoddy repairs, it could be opened with just the right amount of lift and tug.

By the time she closed her apartment door behind her and secured the five locks, her hands were shaking and her body was trembling with the crashing adrenaline. She could feel the tears coursing down her cheeks as she rushed to the kitchen and pulled open a cabinet. She retrieved the half-empty bottle of Kentucky bourbon and a tumbler, and made a mess pouring it. Her breaths were coming too fast and the fumes from the bourbon burned along her nostrils as she tossed back a large swallow of the fiery liquor. She didn’t even cough anymore after the first drink. She had stopped doing that months ago.

It took precious minutes for her to regain her calm, and then she crept over to the window that overlooked the alley. She peered behind the blind, and could see two uniformed police officers shining their flashlights in every corner. It didn’t take them long to determine there was nothing to be found, and they retreated. She knew that the officers would likely canvass the building looking for information, so she didn’t have long to search the man’s wallet for clues to his identity.

In a mad scramble, Karen unloaded her laptop from its case and powered it up. She cursed as the screen slowly came to life, and flipped the wallet open. It was stuffed with hundreds of dollars in cash, and a New York State picture ID. The ID was for a man named Brady Callahan, but he didn’t look familiar to her. With shaking fingers, Karen’s nails clacked away at the keys of her laptop as she ran a search of the name through her research databases. It didn’t take her long to find Mr. Callahan’s criminal history in the police archives, and she gasped when she saw the man’s known affiliations.

Brady Callahan worked for Wilson Fisk. Just like James Wesley, the man Karen had shot and killed. She still had nightmares about Fisk showing up in her apartment to kill her by crushing her head between his big, meaty hands. It didn’t matter that Fisk was still in prison. It didn’t matter that he shouldn’t get out for a long time. She knew better than most that his influence still shaped the underbelly of her city. Karen knew what the man was capable of doing.  

A heavy fist connected with her door with booming knocks that startled her out of her chair with a cry. She clamped her hand across her mouth to stifle her panicked breaths and her hand reached for her purse. It could either be the cops, or it could be the asshole she shot coming back to settle the score. Neither option sounded like a good one, so she remained frozen in place, held her breath, and prayed that the knocker would move on.

Her breath released with a loud _whoosh_ when she heard a deep voice growl, “You got two seconds to open this door, Page, or I’m tearin’ it down.”

 


	2. Karen Has a Visitor

Her feet were moving before she even thought about it, and she wrenched the locks from their moors as she hissed, “Okay, okay! Give me a second!”

The doorknob turned beneath her fingers, and she sprang back as a large male body wedged its way inside her apartment before slamming the door behind him. Karen’s heart didn’t know whether to race with excitement or stop with dread as she was pinned by the furious gaze of Frank Castle.

He looked vastly different from the last time she’d seen him, and not only because he was clean and uninjured. Frank was wearing casual street clothes with faded denim jeans, a black leather jacket with a red tee shirt beneath it, and his ever-present combat boots. His hair looked no different, but his square jaw was now covered in a cropped beard and mustache combo that strangely softened his harsh features. Karen had always thought him to be incredibly handsome, but now, he was just... _hot_.

“What the fuck happened out there?” he demanded roughly as he closed the distance between them. He studied her closely from only inches away, but he did not reach out to touch her.

Karen nervously tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear and snapped, “Hello to you, too, Frank. It’s been awhile. Glad to see you’re not dead like I thought you might be.”

His nostrils flared, and his gaze continued to scan the surroundings as he retorted, “Don’t play with me, Karen. I heard the call come over the scanner. A woman was attacked in the alleyway, but her mugger was stopped by another woman with a gun. You know anything about that?”

Karen didn’t know what to think or to say to him. For the past three months, all she had done was obsess about Frank Castle, but she hadn’t even known if he was dead or alive. Each day, she had searched the internet, newspapers, and her sources for news about The Punisher, but there had been no word. Her editor had none too subtly quashed any story that mentioned Frank’s name, and it appeared that the rest of the media had been silenced, too. Frank Castle had disappeared from her life once again, but now he was back, and acting like an overbearing jackass.

Karen knew better than to lie to him. Somehow, she instinctively knew that he would see right through to the truth, so there was no point in even trying to keep things from him. However, that didn’t mean that she had to tell him everything. “Yes, I saw it happen. The girl was being attacked and the bad guy ran away when he was shot. The police are looking into it.”

Frank crossed his arms over his wide chest and stared her down. “Let me see your gun, Page.”

Karen stiffened her back, but she followed his orders. When she passed her Glock to him, he popped the magazine, ejected the chambered round, counted, and then slapped the magazine back into the butt of the gun. Karen was amazed anew by how natural and seamless it was for Frank to handle a gun. “You’re missing a round. Tell me what happened.”

Karen’s stubbornness flared to life, and she held her hand out for her gun. Without reluctance, Frank placed it back in her palm, and she slipped it into her purse once more. “I don’t have to tell you shit, Frank. You can’t just disappear for months on end and then pop up long enough to save my life before leaving again. I don’t need you to save me. I’m taking care of myself just fine.”

She could see the muscle in his jaw jump in response to his clenched teeth, but she would not back down from him or be cowed by his intimidating glare. “The past few months has been a bit busy. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner, but I wanted to keep you from getting hurt again.” He paused long enough to make sure she met his gaze before he added, “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Now, will you please just tell me what the fuck happened down there?”

Her defiance melted beneath his brusque honesty, and her shoulders drooped. She could feel it happening again. She was going to get sucked back in to the chaos and heartbreak of falling for an emotionally-unavailable man with a savior complex. It had happened with Matt, and before she had recovered from his betrayal, she had done it all over again with Frank. She fell for a man who loved another woman more than her. With Matt, it had been the secret of his true identity and the arrival of Elektra Natchios that had ended their relationship before it could begin. This time, it was the ghost of a dead family that would forever prevent Frank from returning her affection. He had barely been able to bring himself to brush a kiss against her cheek. There was no future for Karen in that scenario.

Taking a deep breath, Karen spilled the details of what she had done. Frank remained stone-faced and silent throughout her recollection until she finished with, “And, that’s when you showed up.”

Frank’s gaze drilled through her shields until she felt naked and vulnerable. He said, “Were you really aiming at his head?”

Karen cleared her throat and shook her head. “No, I was aiming for his shoulder, but he didn’t need to know that.”

The corners of his full lips twitched, but his tone was humorless when he replied, “Next time, aim for the head and don’t miss. Where’s the wallet?”

Karen slipped it out of her purse and slid it across the kitchen table toward him. “There’s nothing in there but cash and his ID.” Karen paused to let Frank read the ID before she added, “I’ve already looked him up. Frank, he works for Fisk.”

A harsh curse hissed from between his sculpted, perfect lips. “Shit, Karen. You can’t go to the cops with this. Fisk still has men on his payroll at the station. They’ll be looking for the woman that shot one of their guys.”

Karen swallowed thickly against the ball of fear pushing its way up her throat. “What am I supposed to say when they come knocking on my door? You know the police are going to canvass this building. I have to tell them what I know, so they can catch the bastard and put him behind bars where he belongs.”

Frank snorted and pushed the wallet into his back pocket. “You don’t tell them anything. You didn’t see nothing, you didn’t hear nothing, and you know nothing. Got it? You let me handle this my way.”

She was tempted, _so fucking tempted_ , to say yes. Karen was tired of being afraid, and she just wanted someone else to keep her safe for a change. It would be so easy to rely on Frank, to hand him her trust and her body, but she already knew it was a losing game. She would never be able to compete with the memories of Maria and the kids. Frank would never be able to overcome his grief enough to love her back. It would be emotional suicide to get closer to him. She needed to make him go away before she did something stupid. She needed to get rid of the temptation of falling for another fucking hero.

Karen paced over to the counter and poured herself another drink. She needed the liquid courage to turn him away. It was for both of their sakes. “So, what, Frank? Are you going to strap on your skull armor and go hunt this guy down and kill him? That can’t be your answer to everything! You are only looking for another target, another mission, to justify your thirst for vengeance. You haven’t even figured out that you will never get it. There is no relief from the grief and pain of losing your family. There is only time and distance.” The words she’d held back from the moment she met him tumbled from her lips with bourbon-soaked truth. “You’ve been given a second chance to live your life, Frank, but you do nothing but seek out death. Theirs and yours.”

Her heart stuttered when he stalked over to her and snatched the tumbler from her hand. He poured a splash in the glass, tossed it back his throat, and swallowed before he growled, “What would you have me do, Karen? Huh? Should I let the asshole come back here to look for you? Should I sit back and just wait for Fisk to hear your name? No. Not gonna happen.”

Karen’s hand shook at the thought of The Kingpin turning his attention on her again. He could never know that she was the one that shot and killed his man, Wesley. Should Fisk ever learn the truth, her life was destined to end in a painful and bloody way. Karen did not want her name in his ears ever again. Maybe she did need Frank’s help this time. Maybe she could prevent him from going too far.

Before she could reply, another booming knock landed on her door. Her eyes met Frank’s as a female voice called through the door, “NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions.”


	3. Karen Has Yet Another Visitor

“Shit!” Karen breathed with a curse. “Go hide in my bedroom. Your face is too recognizable to the police. I’ll answer a few questions and get them to leave.”

Frank didn’t look happy with her orders, but he complied readily enough. When she was certain that he was out of eyesight, she called out, “Just a minute!” With shaking fingers, she released the five locks on her door, and opened it only enough for her face to fit through the gap.

The female officer didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I’m Officer Jacinta Bryant with the NYPD. Ma’am, we’ve received a report about an attempted mugging right outside this building at approximately 9:30 pm. We’re looking for possible witnesses. Do you mind if I step inside and ask you a few questions?”

That was absolutely the last thing that was going to happen. “I don’t feel up for visitors right now, officer, but I would be happy to answer any questions you have right here.”

The woman’s dark eyebrow winged up and she drawled, “Okay, have it your way.” Karen didn’t think the officer was really okay with it. The officer continued, “Were you aware of the incident...” she paused to glance down at a clipboard where Karen assumed the landlady gave her a list of the tenants. Mrs. Zielmanski was entirely too accommodating and chatty for her own good. “...Miss Page?”

Lying happened so easily for her now that she didn’t even pause to think about her answer. “I try not to get involved, you know? Police sirens going off in this neighborhood are not uncommon, as I’m sure you know.”

The officer’s dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. “The witness described a young woman with long blonde hair coming to her rescue with a loaded gun. Do you own a handgun, Miss Page?”

Before she could formulate a reply, Karen felt a hard body press along her back. Her eyes went wide when Frank reached up to grip the door and open it enough to be seen by the cop. She glanced over her shoulder and gasped when she only saw his bare chest. She was not prepared to see Frank without a shirt. She didn’t get the time to shore up her walls against the magnetic pull his skin presented to her.

His other arm wound around her waist and pulled her in tight to his bare chest, but he addressed the female officer. “It’s Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. Everyone owns a gun here.”

Karen stiffened against the heat pouring off of Frank’s body, but the officer wasn’t paying attention to her any longer. Her red lips tipped up at the corners and her eyes ate up the muscled expanse of his chest. “Mm-hmm, true enough,” she replied in agreement. “And, who might you be? According to the tenant list provided by the manager, Miss Page lives alone.”

Karen held her breath with fear, but there was no need to worry. His facial hair had changed his appearance drastically, and Karen detected no hint of recognition in the officer’s dark brown eyes. Frank answered the question readily and with a flirty grin, “Pete Castiglione, ma’am. Nice to meet you. I’m just visiting for the night.”

Officer Bryant arched her eyebrows and purred, “Is that right? I think I understand now why you didn’t want to invite me inside. Can’t say I blame you.”

Frank’s big hand splayed across the expanse of Karen’s stomach, and the thin material of her silk blouse did little to provide a barrier from his touch. She nervously settled her own hand over top of Frank’s and allowed herself the luxury of sinking back into his half-embrace. “Yes, well, we were a little busy when you knocked on my door,” Karen offered weakly.

Frank played his part a little too well as he buried his nose in her hair and rumbled loud enough for the officer to hear, “We were just getting to the good part, too. Right, doll?”

Karen’s eyelids slid shut as his husky voice sent drugging waves of pure, molten sex running through her veins. Her knees threatened to buckle as images of the two of them entwined flooded her imagination. Now was not the time to be distracted by her attraction to the deadly vigilante. They were in danger, and she needed to keep her wits about her.

Karen knew her fair complexion was glowing pink with her heightened emotions, and she used that to her advantage. She didn’t even have to feign the embarrassment in her tone when she said, “Look, I don’t have any information for you, officer. Can I reach you at the precinct if I happen to remember anything?”

The officer considered them both for an agonizing moment before she sighed heavily and retrieved a business card from her uniform shirt pocket. She passed it to Karen, but Frank reached out to take it from her fingertips. “Thank you for your service, ma’am. You have a real good night and be safe.”

The charmed woman shook her head and replied sardonically, “Not as good as yours is about to be, apparently. You two have fun.”

Karen held her breath as she slowly closed the door on the retreating cop. She opened her lips to speak, but Frank silenced her by whispering, “Shhh...” as he crowded her into the closed door. His breath gusted hotly across her ear as he whispered, “Wait for her footsteps.”

Karen closed her eyes and tried to listen, but she couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Her skin tingled and buzzed at every point of contact between their bodies, and all she could concentrate on was how his hips were pressed perfectly against her ass like two puzzle pieces falling into place. She was afraid to speak, afraid to move, for fear of the consequences. She wasn’t worried about the police anymore. She was worried about losing herself to Frank.

She should have felt threatened in his tight embrace with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other bracketing her to the door, but she didn’t. She had never felt so safe in her life as she did in that moment, because it was Frank. She knew that he would die to protect her. He would kill to keep her safe. She trusted him like no other person in the world, and that terrified her shitless. She didn’t care that he had killed dozens of people in his hunt for the murderers of his family, or that she had witnessed the blood dripping from his hands. Frank had proven himself to her time and time again. He had protected her, saved her, and rescued her too many times for her to feel anything other than safe with him.

Frank’s grip on her relaxed, and he rumbled, “She’s gone.”

But he did not let her go.


	4. Frank Makes a Mistake

**Frank POV**

 

Frank couldn’t let her go.

He tried to force his arms to drop to his sides, but his body would not obey him. Karen Page felt too damn good pressed against him, and the scent of her shampoo called to him like a siren. He buried his nose in her strawberry-tinted locks and breathed deep of her scent. She smelled like lilacs dusted with the unique scent of New York City that never failed to remind him of _home_. Maria had never carried that scent. She had never lived in Hell’s Kitchen day-to-day. Frank had moved her to the safety of the suburbs as soon as she grew round with his son, and her essence had carried vanilla and fresh air. Karen Page, though, was a delicate flower that dared to bloom on the busy streets of New York. She was both soft and strong, full of determination and the will to survive. She was intoxicating, and dangerous.

As if they had a mind of their own, his fingers spread across her ribs and his palm traced up and down the slope of her waist. His other hand dropped down to her shoulder, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to follow the slope of it down her arm. She was unresisting in his arms, but her breaths were too fast, and Frank could see the pulse in her throat jumping. A fine tremor of tension raced down her spine until it ended with her ass pushing back into the cradle of his hips, and he instinctively pushed back. He was so hard that he could feel the individual teeth of his zipper imprinted on his cock, and his scrambled imagination began to feed him vivid images of him fucking Karen against the door.

He blamed Lieberman for his current state. That fucking guy. When the brilliant hacker had gotten drunk and started acting like a fool, Frank had thought it was amusing. At first. Then Lieberman had gotten personal. _“Do you miss sex? ... You an ass man, Frank? ... You like the, uh, heart-shaped?”_ Frank should have knocked him out sooner. The little fucker had made him think about things that he had no business thinking about. For the past few months, his dreams of Maria had been replaced with ones of Karen Page. No matter how hard he tried to cling to memories of his dead wife, they were interrupted by new dreams of someone else. Someone with long, silky hair, startlingly blue eyes, and a heart-shaped ass to die for. Karen Page stirred the embers of his charred psyche and brought him back to life. She forced his shattered heart to start beating once more. He couldn’t handle losing her, too. It was better to stay away and protect her from a distance. Better for them both.

He still couldn’t let her go, though. The police officer was gone. Frank had heard her footfalls retreat down the steps, but he was still holding Karen in his arms, and she was still letting him. His voice came out rough and course like sandpaper when he repeated, “She’s gone for now.”

“Yeah. Good,” Karen replied, a hitch in her voice. Her left hand landed on Frank’s thigh, and the other cradled his arm around her waist almost as if she couldn’t let go of him, either. “She’ll be back as soon as she realizes who I am, and that I have a concealed carry permit. I should have told her what happened.”

It took every ounce of Frank’s willpower to let her go and step back, but he managed it. He turned on his heel and strode across the room to retrieve his long-sleeved tee shirt and pull it on over his head. He didn’t look her way, because he was afraid that he would forget all the reasons why he should stay away from her. Frank was damaged goods, and she deserved more than an ex-military killer with a broken soul. He would bring her nothing but pain, fear, and death. The more distance he put between them, the better.

He finished tucking in his shirt and replied gruffly, “It won’t matter, ‘cuz this will all be over by morning. Stay here and keep your head down until you hear from me.”

When she didn’t answer him, he finally glanced at where she was still standing facing the closed door. He could see her arms wrapped around her waist, and her hair cascaded down over her shoulders with her head bowed. It was the loneliest sight Frank had ever seen in his life, and Frank was old friends with that emotion. He understood the vast wasteland of being untethered from anyone that would care if you lived or died on your next mission. He had experienced it, was still suffering it, and he could it see it reflected back to him in Karen’s posture.

He had never stopped to consider what her life was like on a day-to-day basis. He knew she had friends, had met a few of them, but he had never heard her mention a family. He had seen no evidence of anyone else in her apartment during his brief moments to search since arriving, and there were no framed pictures other than one snapshot of herself, Nelson, and Murdock. She didn’t even have a cat or a goldfish to depend on her or greet her when she came home. Who was protecting her when Frank wasn’t there to do it? Who was watching out for Karen Page other than herself? It damn sure wasn’t the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Fucking Murdock.

His boots rang hollow on the laminate floor as he crossed the room towards her. He stopped just short of touching her, but close enough for her to feel the heat pouring off his body. He lowered his lips to her ear and said, “I got you, Karen. I can fix this. It’s the only fucking thing I have to give you, so I’m doing it. You don’t have to worry.”

Her shoulders began to tremble, and Frank braced himself for the sight of her tears. He could face down a dozen armed combatants without fear, but he had no armor against the sight of a woman’s tears. He had seen Karen cry before, and the image still haunted him. Her eyes had almost glowed neon blue as translucent tears had poured down her face. He never wanted to see that again.

Before Frank could pull her into his arms, she whirled to face him.  She didn’t look on the verge of tears, though. She looked angry. She shoved him back from her with both hands, but he only moved one step back.

“You arrogant asshole!” she seethed.

Frank’s stomach sank. He was also very familiar with a woman’s wrath, and it had never ended well for him. He had no reason to believe that he would fare any better with Karen Page.


	5. Frank is an Arrogant Asshole

**Frank POV**

 

She shoved him again, but he was prepared for it and didn’t budge. Her cheeks were flush with emotion, and her blue eyes glowed bright with indignation as she snapped, “What do you mean I ‘don’t have to worry’ and that I should just ‘stay home’? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“That’s what I’ve been told,” Frank replied without thought as he crossed his arms over his chest.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, because her right hand balled up into a fist at her side. “This is _my_ life at stake here, Frank. I am not some damsel in distress in need of a white knight to slay my dragons, especially not one that only shows up when there’s blood involved. I can fight my own battles, and so far, I’ve won them all. I will not be told to stay home like a good little girl while the man takes care of things. Not by anyone, and especially not by you.”

Frank immediately went on the defensive. “Oh, that’s right. You took such good care of yourself when Lewis had you as a hostage. Who got you out of that one, Page? That’s right. It was me.”

Karen stalked past him and began to pace across the floor. Frank’s gaze immediately dropped to her long legs. He wished it was summer, so he could see the curve and arch of her bare legs. His attention was pulled back to her face when she replied angrily, “Yes, you saved my life, and I am beyond grateful, but that does not give you the right to dictate what I will or won’t do. You don’t know enough about me to even offer your opinion much less make the decision for me. What gives you the right to barge into my home and demand anything?”

Her words landed on him with verbal blows to his stomach, and it made him angry. He didn’t want her fucking gratitude. He wanted her to know that he was protecting her, because she was important to him. Why couldn’t she see that?

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”  his mouth replied before his brain caught up with it. “Your mouth and that temper of yours are out there writing checks that your ass can’t cash. You need me to stay alive in this city, sweetheart. You are a magnet for trouble.”

Her bark of laughter was humorless. “Is that why you keep popping back into my life? Which exactly would you be in this scenario? Do you keep coming back to me because you’re looking for trouble, or is it because you _are_ the trouble? Why _did_ you come here tonight, Frank?”

He was struck dumb by her question. It seemed so obvious to him, but somehow, he just knew it was a trick question. “I was worried about you. You’re...family.”

Her expression fell, but she held up a staying hand when he reached out to her. Frank’s hand dropped helplessly to his side as she sank into the chair next to her laptop. All the fight had gone out of her, and she looked utterly defeated. “We’re not family, Frank. We’re not even friends. That would imply a closeness between us that is just not there. Families come together to share meals and holidays. Friends call and visit and know which show you’re binge-watching on Netflix at any given time.” She paused for a painful moment before adding softly, “I thought you were dead. Again. You don’t do that to family.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, running a hand over his face. “I said I was sorry for that already, but I’ll say it again, and a hundred times more after it until you believe me. I thought I was protecting you by staying away, okay? I just want you to be safe and happy. Is that so fucking wrong?”

A translucent tear appeared out of nowhere to glide down her cheek. She didn’t even bother to wipe it away as she replied, “Not wrong, but the wrong fucking decision, because I am not safe and I definitely am not happy.” Another tear traced along the path of the previous one as she added softly, “I...I care too much about you, Frank. I want something from you that you can’t give me, and it hurts worse every time you leave. You said it yourself a few minutes ago. The only thing you can give me is The Punisher, but I want Frank, too. Or nothing at all.”

A good soldier should never flinch, but Frank did. Karen didn’t pull her punches, and neither did he. “What are you saying, Karen? You want me to walk out that door and never come back? Look me in the eyes and tell me that you never want to see me again.”

Without hesitation, Karen’s baby blues landed on him. In that moment, she was a perfect chimera of delicacy and strength, and her voice was unwavering when she said, “I don’t want that at all, but at least I wouldn’t have to wonder if you were ever coming back.”

Frank’s ears began to ring, and he felt disoriented like the aftermath of an explosion. He was confused and angry. He couldn’t accept the idea of never seeing her again. He had lost everyone else in his life that had mattered to him, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, too. Why couldn’t she understand that he was only trying to do right by her?

“What the fuck do you want from me here? You want me to stay, or do you want me to go?” Frank spat, his temper turning his words into weapons. “I get it. I get that I hurt you, and I’m sorry, okay? Hurting you is the last thing on earth that I want to do, but somehow, it’s always the inevitable outcome. What the fuck do you want me to do? Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

She sighed with defeat and hastily wiped away the invisible tracks of her tears. “That’s the point I’m trying to make, Frank. It’s not about what I want from you. It’s about what you want from me. I don’t think you’re ready to admit to yourself, much less to me, what that is. Until you figure it out, I think it’s best for both of us if you leave.”

Frank stood there motionless for an interminable moment as he absorbed her words. She wanted him to leave. He couldn’t believe it. He had no idea where this night went wrong, but there was nowhere else for him to go but out the door. With angry strides, he paced over to the couch and retrieved his leather jacket and pulled it over his broad shoulders. Karen didn’t say another word as he stalked to the door of her apartment and walked out without looking back.

As he jogged down the stairs of her building, he fished the wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open to read the address on the ID. Karen may not want him in her apartment, but he could still keep her safe. He would finish what she had started with the would-be rapist, Brady Callahan. He would kill anyone who dared to threaten her. Whether she liked it or not, Frank would always have her six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So, here's a little taste of what's in store! I've already got several more chapters done, and will release them quickly as I continue to write the next ones. I would love to hear from you guys, and I reply with annoying friendliness to each one. Thanks in advance to everyone who takes the time to leave kudos, too! Hang in there with me, y'all. The sexy times will be worth it.**


	6. Karen is So Fucking Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Shout out to the two commenters who pointed out that Frank never called Karen "Red." I have gone back and edited those out, and it won't appear again. I don't know how I got that so wrong, but I'm not above admitting my mistakes and fixing them! Thank you again!**

Karen flinched when the door slammed behind him. She waited until the echo of his heavy footsteps faded before she stood to her feet and forced herself to lock the door behind him. She ignored her laptop, open bottle of bourbon, and dirty glass, and made her way down the hall toward her room. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton, and she couldn’t think straight.

She didn’t turn on the light as she began stripping her clothes off once she reached her room. She tossed her dirty laundry in the general direction of the hamper, and padded barefoot into her bathroom to turn on the shower. As she waited the requisite five minutes for the water to heat up, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was pale and chalky, but her eyes glowed sapphire blue. Her eyes were the saving grace of her looks. She knew she wasn’t a conventionally beautiful woman, but her big blue eyes saved her from being labeled as “plain.” Karen wasn’t a vain person, but she did take pride in looking her best. Right now, she looked like she felt like shit.

Her motions were rote and mechanic as she pulled a towel and washcloth from the closet before stepping into the steaming shower. She hissed as the hot needles of water stung her sensitive skin, but she reveled in the flash of pain that woke her from her stupor. She closed her eyes as the water saturated her long hair and cascaded over the curves of her body, and finally allowed her mind to turn back to Frank. He was gone. This time, maybe for good.

She wasn’t sure where she had gotten the courage to bare her soul to him. Frank had a way of getting under her skin and agitating every emotion she had carefully controlled throughout her life. His temper ignited her own, his despair brought hers into focus, and his passion called out to hers and demanded a response. Frank Castle was the very definition of alpha male soaked in blood and testosterone, and the female part of Karen’s soul woke up and took notice each time he was around her. How could she not fall for him when he had saved her life over and over? How could she not want him when he looked like every fantasy of tall, dark, and handsome she’d ever had? But she couldn’t have him. Frank would never be in the right headspace to love someone else after his wife and children were killed in front of him. He wasn’t just scarred from that experience; he was shattered into a million pieces. Karen knew she was capable of anything she set her mind to, but there was no putting Frank’s heart back together again.

As she shampooed and conditioned her hair, her mind played back over the last two hours of her life. She had managed to royally fuck up in such a short amount of time. She should have never shot that man to begin with, and she definitely shouldn’t have lied to the police about it. She would have to go see Detective Brett Mahoney in the morning and figure out some explanation for the things she had done without mentioning Frank. She would turn over Callahan’s wallet to him and let the police take care of it from there.

A sudden thought had her cursing out loud, “Shit! Frank took the wallet! Son of bitch!”

She finished her washing in record time and hurriedly dried herself with a towel as she stalked back into the kitchen to verify her memory. Sure enough, both Frank and the wallet were gone. She had a bad feeling that the stubborn vigilante would make good on his previous threat to track the man down. She had two choices before her. She could go tearing off into the night after him and try to stop him, or she could just go to bed and worry about it in the morning.

She glanced at the clock and saw that it was well after midnight. There was no telling where Frank was headed to at this time of night, and she doubted that he would find Callahan at home. Even one of Fisk’s lackeys wouldn’t be stupid enough to hand over his ID and then go home to wait for the cops to show up. The likelihood of Frank tracking the man down during the night was slim, but the chances of her getting hurt chasing after him were almost certain. No, the best course of action would be to stay home where it was safe and wait for morning to contact the detective. He would know what to do.

Karen turned out her lights and padded down the hall to her bedroom. She dropped her cell phone on the nightstand, pulled on an old college nightshirt, and climbed beneath her covers. She lay there in the dark with the white noise of honking horns, blaring sirens, and screaming neighbors and willed herself to close her eyes. She just needed to get through the night, and tomorrow would be a new day. She could do this on her own without help from a man with the instinct to kill.

But when she closed her eyes, her traitorous mind called forth vivid details of Frank’s naked, muscled chest. She could recall each scar and each place a bullet had entered his body. She remembered what it had felt like to have his solid heat pressed against her back and how big his hand had felt spread across her stomach. Even thinking about it had her hips lifting from the bed as if reaching out for him. Her emotions weren’t the only things that reacted to Frank. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own around him, too. Not only was he ruggedly handsome and packed full of muscle, but he also had that tantalizing edge of possessiveness that Karen craved in the most secret part of her soul.

Her love life up to this point of her life had been a sad, pathetic joke. She hadn’t had sex in over a year, and she hadn’t had good sex in over three. Her body was starved for the touch of someone else, someone who knew what they were doing, but Karen had been too busy, too picky, and too distracted to settle on anyone...until Matt Murdock came walking into her life. It hadn’t taken long for Karen to develop feelings for the handsome blind lawyer with a soft heart. She had crushed on him for months before her hopes were rewarded with a kiss. They were soon dashed after a disastrous first date and the subsequent arrival of his old flame, Elecktra Natchios. Matt and Foggy fell out with each other, and she was left alone once again.

And then along came Frank. He exploded into her life and captured her heart. She had been terrified of him until the moment she’d stepped inside his former home. Nothing had been touched, and Karen had seen pictures of the real Frank Castle. There was love saturated in the walls of their home, and that love had been violently ripped away from him. He had just cause for his rage, and the only justice had been death. Karen understood him, and that faith in his goodness had never wavered. There were times when he had let her down, had crushed the blossoming affection sprouting in her heart for him, but it only grew back stronger each time he had saved her. She had actually thought that after their embrace in the elevator, that there may be a chance that he might feel something for her, too.

He had let her go for three long months wondering if he was dead or alive. He had never reached out to leave her a message or call her cell. There was not a whisper of Frank Castle until he had appeared at her doorstep barking orders. It was too much all at once, and Karen had unloaded on him with both barrels. Either he would be in Karen’s life all the way, or he needed to leave. It was that simple, because she could only mend her broken heart so many times before there was nothing left. She couldn’t continue to love a man who could never love her back. She had to protect herself from that hell, even if it meant living within another without him.


	7. Karen Wakes Up

Karen startled awake, and adrenaline brought her to awareness with jarring speed. It was pitch black in her room, but something was wrong. The hairs along her nape were standing on end, and her heart was racing, but she was too afraid to move. She strained her ears to hear above the pounding of her heart, and that was when she heard it. Someone was moving around in her apartment.

With her heart in her throat, she reached out to her nightstand for her gun, but it wasn’t there. “Shit!” she breathed, as she realized she had left it in her purse. She never forgot to place it within easy reach, but the one night she was too distracted to remember was the night she needed it the most. Instead, she grabbed for her cell phone and pressed the home button. “Fuck!” she cursed, as the black screen glowed with the image of an empty battery. God, Frank had really done a number on her to make her forget to charge her phone, too.

Her only hope was to get to her purse before the intruder got to her first. She eased out of the bed and tiptoed across the bare floor until she reached the short hallway that separated her bedroom from the combined kitchen and living room. She could feel the cool November air swirling around her ankles as she inched through the darkness, and that answered her question as to how the person had entered. Her tiny apartment only had three windows, but the biggest one was in her living room. It opened up to the fire escape, and she hated it. She couldn’t afford to pay for the installation and monthly fee of a security system, so it had remained the weak spot in her safety. She was paying the price for her failings once again.

Peering around the corner, her breath caught in her throat when she saw a dark shadow rifling through the drawers in her kitchen. His back was to her, and Karen knew it may be her only chance to get across the room to where her purse was waiting on the table. Her palms were sweaty and her hands were shaking, but Karen’s resolve was firm. With a ragged breath, she rushed past the opening between the kitchen and table, and prayed that she reached it before he could reach her.

She knew he had spotted her, but the purse was beneath her fingertips! She tore and wrenched her way through the fake leather, but only found her wallet. As loose change bounced off the laminate with shocking clatter, her eyes darted up with fear to land on the intruder. The shadow hadn’t moved to follow her. Instead, he watched her from the kitchen as he pointed Karen’s gun at her chest.

Her heart thumped against her chest, and her mouth went dry as he casually sauntered toward her. Ambient light from the open window highlighted his features, and Karen recognized the man from the alley. It was the same man who had tried to rape that woman, and the same man that Karen had shot in the shoulder. Brady Callahan was here and he was going to kill her.

“Looking for this?” he taunted her, tipping her gun for better view. “Leaving your gun in your purse? That’s sloppy for such a conscientious gun owner such as yourself, if you ask me. Especially one that’s trigger happy.”

The purse dropped from her lifeless fingers, and instinct had her backing away from him. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” she blurted as she stumbled backward over the leg of a chair.

For every step back she took, he kept pace with her until she bumped against the back of her couch. He came to a stop just a few feet away from her, and she was trapped. Her only avenue of escape was through the open window, and even though it was only a few steps away, it may as well have been a hundred. Her only defense now was to keep him talking as long as possible.

“What did you think I was gonna do when I left, huh? Run home after giving you my wallet?” he scoffed. “This ain’t my first rodeo, sweetheart. I ducked into the laundromat next door and snagged some new clothes from a dryer. Funny coincidence, there’s a window in the bathroom with a great view of the alley. It’s right across the way from that door I watched you slip through...with my wallet.”

Karen swayed as all the blood rushed down from her head to pool in her stomach. She thought she would vomit, but her throat was too dry to even heave. She began edging her way slowly and subtly toward the window as she rasped, “How did you know which apartment was mine?”

He smirked, but predictably took the bait. “It was easy. Once the police cleared out, I had a nice talk with your landlady about available apartments for rent. The old bird is real chatty, especially when I asked her about the tenants. It didn’t take long for her to spill about the pretty young woman who lived all alone in apartment 2D. She told me everything about you, Karen Page.”

If she lived to see the next day, she was going to have sit Mrs. Zielmanski down for a serious discussion about tenant privacy. She had a feeling that she was running out of time, and she was no closer to her goal of reaching the window. It was time for evasive maneuvers.

“What do you want from me? Your wallet? I don’t have it. I gave it to the police. They’re looking for you, Brady Callahan,” she taunted him recklessly even as he crowded her into the back of the couch.

His laughter was nasty and mocking as he leaned in close to sniff rudely at her neck. “See, I don’t think you did, _Karen_. I think you kept it, because you fancy yourself some kind of hero like those freaks you write about at the _New York Bulletin_. Yeah, I had some time look you up on my phone while I stitched up that bullet wound you put in my shoulder, bitch.”

Karen screwed her eyes closed as he pressed the barrel of the gun against her left breast directly over her pounding heart. She opened her mouth, and words poured from between her chattering teeth without thought or reason. “How do you think I know so much about them, huh? I know those powered humans, asshole. If you kill me, you will have some pissed off supers hunting your ass down. The best chance you have to escape is right now. Just leave. Go back out that window and run, because I promise you that if you don’t, you won’t live through the night.”

 Callahan barked a harsh laugh, and boldly ran the muzzle of the gun along the slope of her breast. “Oh, you got the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on speed dial? Do you and Jessica Fucking Jones do lunch on Tuesdays? Give me a fucking break. You’re just another nobody fangirl that wants to fuck a superhero,” he taunted her.

The coals of her anger ignited, and her fear and her rage combined to form a new emotion. Something primal and hot and pure took hold of her, and she wrenched control of her fate back from the one who dared to take it away. She would not die willingly, and she intended to put up a hell of fight. If she only had seconds to live, they would be on _her_ terms.

Her eyes flew open with defiance, and her vision narrowed in the darkened room. She had only a few seconds to plan her attack, but in the end, it wasn’t necessary. Her gaze landed on the glowing red dot quivering on his forehead. Her breath caught in her throat, and she realized that she wouldn’t have to do anything at all.

Her voice shook with her words as she replied, “Actually, that’s all true, except that Jessica and I have drinks on Thursdays. There’s one more name on that list you forgot, motherfucker, and it will be the last one you ever hear. The Punisher.”

His name had barely passed her lips before Callahan’s head jerked with the force of the bullet that entered between his eyes. Her gun fell from his limp hand to clatter against the floor, and Karen watched dispassionately as he fell dead at her feet. She felt curiously detached from her surroundings, but the details would stay etched in her memory forever.

Her gaze roamed over his lifeless body with the growing pool of blood beneath him and she couldn’t seem to find a reason to mourn. Her tone was emotionless when she said, “I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen. You have no one to blame for this but yourself.”

She wasn’t just talking to the dead man on her living room floor. She was talking to herself, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You guys! You all rock so hard! Thank you for the amazing comments and feedback. I am always trying to be a better writer, and it's difficult to do if you don't have input from the readers. That's why I love this site and all the amazing people I've met. I have had nothing but overwhelming support, encouragement, advice, gentle correction, and downright hilarious conversations. I'm trying to say thanks for taking the time to chat. It really does help me enjoy the creative process, and it juices me to keep going and to keep getting better. I got nothing but love for y'all. Be back soon! I try to post every day, but it is Christmas and shit happens.**


	8. Frank is Confused

Frank’s POV

It took Frank exactly four minutes and thirty-seven seconds to dismantle and pack his rifle, climb down from the roof of the two-story laundromat next door, slip through the alley door, and arrive at Karen’s doorstep. He wasn’t sure what to expect when she opened the door, but at least he knew that she was alive. That was ultimate mission, and he had accomplished it. He would figure out how to deal with the fallout later.

He didn’t even have to knock before he heard the sound of metal on wood as Karen released the five locks on her door. As soon as the door was open wide enough, he slipped through and shut it quietly behind him. He didn’t bother to glance at the meatbag bleeding out on the floor. Instead, his gaze searched out Karen standing silent in the shadows. There was just enough light filtering in through the open window to cast a soft glow off her alabaster skin.

She looked so fucking lost and vulnerable standing there in nothing more than a ragged University of Vermont tee shirt and panties. He couldn’t get a read on her expression at all, and that scared the fuck out of him. She wasn’t crying, yelling, panicking, or doing anything else. She just stood there and waited.

Frank’s voice rumbled like rocks through the unnatural silence of her apartment. “Talk to me, sweetheart. You’re scaring me here.”

Her gaze traveled slowly across the landscape before they landed on him. Without inflection in her tone, she said, “Don’t call me that. He called me that, too. I don’t like it when you call me ‘Page’, either. Anything else is fine.”

He got that same sick feeling in his gut that he’d experienced in Afghanistan when he’d failed to shoot the pregnant suicide bomber. Thanks to that mistake, his friend had lost a leg, and had almost lost his life. He had to get it right this time before there was collateral damage. He reigned in his impulse to start barking orders, and tried a different tactic this go around.

“Your house, your rules,” he assured her lightly as he eased further into the room. “Are you alright? He hurt you at all?”

Karen looked down at the dead man on her laminate floor and said thoughtfully, “I’m not bleeding and I’m alive. So, I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.”

Frank couldn’t hold back the surprised snort of laughter that broke the terrible stillness between them. “That’s good enough for now. I’m going to make a few phone calls and get this sorted out. That okay with you?”

Karen nodded readily before replying, “Yeah, sure, whatever you need to do. Who are we calling?”

His eyebrows winged up his forehead as he fished his phone from his back pocket. He bit back the instinctive smart ass retort, and answered her as honestly as he could. “My buddy, Curtis, runs a support group for veterans, and I, uh, have been going a lot lately. I met a veteran there that runs a cleanup crew to supplement the disability check and retirement. I thought I would call and offer a job.”

Karen’s emotionless gaze roamed across the expanse of her blood-splattered apartment. “I hope they’re good. How much will this cost us?”

Frank shook his head, baffled. He’d seen every possible reaction to traumatic events, but this one was new to him. “Don’t worry about that right now, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

That seemed to appease her for the moment, so Frank made haste with his phone. It was already almost 4 a.m., and time was of the essence. Thankfully, his contact picked up on the second ring. “Hey, it’s me,” Frank rumbled into the phone. “I need a favor.”

 _“For you, my friend? Anytime,”_ the voice replied. _“What do you got for me?”_

Frank met Karen’s interested gaze and replied cryptically, “I need pickup and delivery, and on-site maintenance. Location is secure, but time sensitive.”

The voice didn’t hesitate as it replied, _“Consider it done. Just give me the coordinates, and I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll give you the bill next time I see you.”_

Frank smiled as he rattled off the address before adding, “Pleasure doing business with you, Connie. I’ll bring the good donuts from that place you like over on West 47th Street next time. See you in twenty.”

Frank ended the call and slid his phone back in his pocket. Karen’s eyebrows were raised in polite inquiry, so he explained, “Lieutenant General Consuela Garcia was given an honorable discharge when she was wounded by an IED in Iraq five years ago. She’ll take it from here.”

Karen blinked a few times before she turned on her heel to walk away from him. Frank panicked at her sudden departure and blurted, “Where are you going?”

Without turning around, she called over her shoulder, “I’m going to change my clothes and pack a bag. I’ll be ready to go by the time they arrive.”

Frank stared after her in complete amazement. He’d never seen Karen so calm and in control of herself and the situation. He couldn’t tell if she was in shock, because her eyes were clear and focused when she spoke to him. She was too composed, too accepting, and too involved in this situation for his taste. He would almost rather she be crying and screaming at him, because Frank knew how to react to that kind of behavior. He had no clue what to do or what to say around this strange, composed woman with the long golden hair of an angel with the mouth of a devil. All he knew was that he needed to get her the fuck out of there so Connie and her crew could get to work.

True to her word, Karen was back in the living room, fully dressed and carrying a bag, by the time a light knock rapped on the door. He waited for Karen to nod her agreement before he approached the door and opened it up to allow a middle-aged woman of Hispanic descent to slip inside. Frank smiled with genuine affection as the gruff older woman shook his hand with her remaining arm.

“Connie, you’re a lifesaver, you know that?” Frank greeted his friend fondly. “Can you get it done quickly and quietly?”

Her sharp brown eyes took in the scene at a glance, and she snorted, “With you involved, I was expecting much worse. My crew is in the alley waiting for my orders. This should take us about an hour to clean up. Why don’t you take that poor young woman out for some early breakfast while we work? She looks like she could use a strong cup of coffee and some protein.”

“I could eat,” Karen replied without prompting. She stood next to the open window with her overnight bag and purse slung over her shoulder. “Thank you for your help, ma’am. We’ll be happy to pay whatever the going rate is for this job.”

Connie Garcia blinked a few times before she turned back to Frank and said, “I like her, Frank. Now get the fuck out so I can get to work. I’ll lock up on my way out.”

Frank tipped his head respectfully and turned to join Karen at the window. Without waiting for him to follow, Karen turned and exited the window before carefully climbing down the fire escape. Frank shook his head with bemusement as he followed swiftly behind her until he landed on the alley pavement next to her. He gave a wordless nod to Connie’s crew, liberated the bag from Karen’s hands, and escorted her to the street.

Five minutes of silence later, they were well on their way to a 24-hour diner a few blocks over. Karen still hadn’t said a word to him, and her gaze never wavered from the sidewalk in front of them. He couldn’t stand the silence and uncertainty anymore, so he said carefully, “You want to talk about what happened? You’re being awful quiet over there, and that’s not the Karen that I know.”

Karen glanced up at him and offered him a small smile. “What’s to talk about? He’s dead, and I’m not.” Her arm curled through the crook of his elbow and she added, “Where are we going? I’m starving.”

Frank sighed heavily, and vowed to try again later. Maybe she would wake up after a cup of coffee and some pancakes. “Cosmic Diner sound good to you?”

She nodded without comment, and they walked on in silence throughout the streets of Hell’s Kitchen to the diner three blocks away. The streets of New York City never slept, but this time of the morning during pre-dawn, it was slower and quieter. The temperature was mild for mid-November, but the wind still carried an edge that promised to find every chink in the armor of coats. Frank didn’t feel the bite of cold, though. The weight of Karen’s hold on his arm sent waves of heat radiating throughout his body, and he craved the warmth she offered him.

Without giving it too much thought, Frank liberated his elbow from her grip and used it to pull her into his side. She automatically wound her arm around his waist, and they continued their journey through the streets. His arm fell perfectly across her shoulders, and her stride matched his. It felt right to hold her close, and to have her lean into him. At that moment, there was nowhere else on earth that he would rather be than there with her. It was an epiphany that he could not ignore.

As the glowing lights of the diner grew close, Frank said softly, “Don’t tell me to leave again, Karen. “

She was silent for a long moment until they came to a stop at the doors of the diner. She turned to face him and her gaze was sharp and vivid as blue diamonds. Her soft cherry lips tipped up at the corners and she reached out to thread her fingers through his.

“I won’t,” she replied simply before she pulled him through the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Already working on the next chapter! Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far, and I so appreciate all the kudos and comments. We're finally getting close to the good stuff, I promise! See you guys soon!**


	9. Frank Takes Karen Home

Frank’s POV

By the time he got the all clear from Connie an hour later, he and Karen had put a respectable dent in small mountain of pancakes, sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs, and a river of black coffee. Much to Frank’s surprise, Karen began to talk. She didn’t mention anything about Brady Callahan or about Frank killing him. Instead, she began to talk about a story she was chasing on her own time. Her expressions became animated, and her gorgeous eyes lit up with internal flame, and Frank was struck dumb by her beauty and passion.

He found that it was easy to talk to her, because she was no stranger to combat. He didn’t have to censor himself or try to make things pretty with her. He had never talked about his job with Maria. She was too sheltered and unblemished by blood, so he had always had to hide that part of his life from her. He didn’t have to hide anything from Karen. She had seen it all.

When the waitress dropped the check on the table, Frank reached out to grab it, but Karen was faster. “My treat this time. You can get dinner tonight.”

It went against every instinct in his soul to let her pay, but he swallowed down his refusal and said, “Sounds fair to me. You like Italian food?”

A smile broke over her face to rival the sunrise streaming through the diner windows. “I love Italian food.”

Frank sat back in his chair and waited as Karen paid the bill and left a generous tip for their server. As she slid her arms into her coat and retrieved her purse, she froze in place with a confused look on her face. “Where did you leave your weapon?”

Even though Frank was currently equipped with three others, he knew which one she was talking about. He tossed back the dregs of coffee in his mug and stood to his feet to join her. “It’s still on the roof next door. I’ll go back and get it sometime tonight. No one’s looking up there, believe me.”

She seemed mollified by the arrangement, and they exited the diner without further comment. The sidewalks were beginning to fill with harried people on their way to work, exercise, school, and regular life, but he and Karen weren’t regular people. He hefted her bag over his shoulder, and wondered where the fuck he was supposed to take her now.

He cleared his throat as they joined the bustling throng of people on the street. “You know, Connie gave the all clear. You can go back home if you want to. It’s safe now.”

Karen insinuated herself beneath his arm and replied matter-of-factly, “I know that, but I don’t want to go back there right now. Let’s go to your place. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

Just that quick, he was hard. He hadn’t dared to assume that she would want to go home with him, and to hear her say it so baldly made him light-headed from blood loss. He had to keep reminding himself that she had just suffered a traumatic event, and there was no way he would take advantage of her situation by trying to fuck her. Frank may be an arrogant asshole, but he was not a monster. He would give her a safe place to sleep while he caught a nap on the couch. She needed to rest, and Frank did, too, and the best way to achieve that mission was with them both under the same roof for now.

With that goal in mind, Frank hailed a passing taxi, and urged her to slip inside before he joined her. In the early morning traffic, it took only fifteen minutes to get to his apartment building. When he had rented the space almost a year ago, he hadn’t given much thought to the place where he would sleep. He’d taken the first apartment within his budget that had decent security. The units were tiny, one bedroom apartments, but the windows led to easy access for a quick escape, and the neighbors minded their own business. It had suited his needs perfectly.

As he fit the key in the lock, though, he began to worry about having Karen stay there with him. When was the last time he had washed the sheets? Did he even have any food or milk in the fridge? What if she wanted coffee when she woke up, and Frank had run out of grounds? He had forgotten what it was like to take care of someone other than himself, and he needed to remember fast. He didn’t want to let her down again, but knowing his luck, he’d find a way to fuck it up royally. Karen deserved better than that, and he wanted to do right by her.

“Open the fucking door, Frank,” Karen sighed, exhaustion weighing her voice down. “Like you said to me earlier, we’ll figure it out later. For now, I just want to sleep.”

Frank turned the lock, and pushed the door to hold it open for her. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Frank replied dutifully with a smirk twisting his lips.

She walked past him, and headed unerringly for the door to his bedroom as she scanned the layout of his meager furnishings. Frank closed and locked the door behind them, and the tension between his shoulder blades melted and faded away. He knew Karen was safe from harm, because she was with him. Having Karen in his home was the first time he had felt completely at ease in years. Having her close felt instinctive and natural to him. It was a different type of connection than the one he’d had with Maria, and her memory didn’t feel threatened by it. That didn’t mean that Frank knew what the fuck to do.

He followed her into his bedroom and tossed her bag on the messy bed. She hadn’t turned on the light, but the room was aglow with the light from the rising sun filtering through the closed blinds. “You take the bed, and get some rest. The bathroom is through there,” he pointed at the small adjoined washroom. “I’ll be right in the other room if you need anything.”

Karen slid her coat off her shoulders and tossed it on the old, second-hand armchair he’d picked up at the Salvation Army. Without pausing for effect, she peeled off her tight red sweater, and it joined her coat on the chair. Frank’s eyebrows shot up as he got an eyeful of Karen’s pale, rounded cleavage held up by a lacy black bra that cupped her like an offering. His mouth went dry as she sat on the bed and pulled her boots and socks off her feet before standing to shimmy her blue jeans down her long, shapely legs.

In no time at all, she was down to only her matching panties and bra. Frank tried to be subtle about adjusting himself, but there was nothing subtle about her effect on him. His voice was hoarse when he croaked, “I’ll, uh, just let you get some rest.” Before he could make it to the relative safety of the door, though, she stopped him.

“Will you sleep with me, Frank?” she asked, her tone clearly conveying her need for him.

It was a message that Frank received loud and clear. Karen was asking for comfort, not sex. She needed him there to feel safe enough to fall asleep, and Frank understood that. He could do that for her, and he wanted to feel her pressed against him as she drifted to sleep, but he didn’t see much rest for himself in this scenario. He was already fighting a losing battle against his libido, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Frank weighed his options, and finally sighed heavily. “Yeah, doll. I’ll sleep in here with you, but you gotta wear a shirt. I’m only human.”

Karen’s pale cheeks began to flush as she boldly reached behind her back to release the clasp on her bra. It fell to the floor at her feet, and her breasts sprang free. They were just big enough to fill his palms, and they were tipped small nipples the color of ripe peaches. His dry mouth flooded with saliva, and he swallowed thickly as she plucked a black tee shirt from the top of his laundry basket and pulled it on over her head. She liberated her long, silky hair from the collar so it tumbled over her shoulders, and said, “There. I’m wearing a shirt.”

Frank was still standing at the end of the bed when she slid beneath the blankets and snuggled into his pillow. Part of him wanted to tear his own clothes off, and hers, too. The other part wanted to run away as fast as possible. He didn’t want to form an attachment to her only to have her ripped away from him. It had happened before, and it could happen again.

“Get in the bed, Frank,” Karen’s voice was muffled by the pillow. “Existential crises can wait.”

Frank huffed a laugh and shook his head. He sat on the bed, and began by pulling off his boots. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?” he asked rhetorically.

“Yeah. You,” she replied without missing a beat.

His boots and socks hit the floor before he stood to his feet to start peeling off layers. He divested himself of his gun and two knives, and placed them within easy reach on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it in the hamper. When he was down to just his jeans and boxer briefs, his fingers hesitated on the button.

One blue eye cracked open, and Karen muttered, “No one sleeps in jeans.”

With a rueful shake of his head, he popped the button and lowered the zipper. Her one visible eye stayed fixed on his crotch as he pulled his jeans off his legs and stood back up to his full height. There was no hiding his obvious erection straining against the cotton of his boxer briefs, and she took her time studying him. He could see her cheek heating with pink, and she finally closed her eyes again so Frank could move.

He slid into the bed next to her, and prayed that she fell asleep quickly so that he could escape to the bathroom and take the edge off his wayward body with his hand. As soon as he was situated on his back with his head cushioned by the pillow, Karen wiggled her way beneath his arm and rested her head on his bare chest and draped her slender arm across his stomach. His arm pulled her in even tighter, and he could feel the crush of her breasts against his ribs. Her breath feathered across his pec, and her fingertips resting against his stomach traced across a scar he’d received from a knife wound.

“Frank?” Karen’s voice whispered through the stillness of the brightening room.

“Yeah?” he answered cautiously, wary of this new Karen and what might come out of her mouth next.

Her cheek rubbed against him, and he thought he felt tears, but there was no trace of them in her voice when she said, “Thank you.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what she was thanking him for, but he replied gruffly, “You don’t ever have to thank me for shit, Karen. I’ll do whatever is necessary to help keep you safe.”

He could feel her smile against his skin, and she made no more reply. Within just a few minutes more, her breaths evened out and deepened, and her hand fell limp against his abs. He thought about trying to gently disengage himself from her, but couldn’t seem to remember why he should. He was warm, comfortable, and exhausted, and Karen was safe there in his arms. Without giving it any more thought, his eyes drifted closed, and he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Woo hoo! We are getting closer to sexy times, my friends! I have a lot of free time to write this weekend, so barring any crazy curveballs that life likes to throw my way, I will be posting several chapters in the next few days. Thank you again for all the support and kindness. You guys are everything.**


	10. Karen Has Made a Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: unnecessarily detailed smut ahead. You're welcome, BlueBerry_RK.**

Karen’s eyes fluttered open, and it took an effort of will to keep them that way. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so soundly without nightmares of Wesley, Fisk, and Lewis taking turns killing her. In fact, Karen couldn’t remember dreaming at all. It was the most blissful rest she’d had in her memory.

It seemed only appropriate that she would sleep like the dead and wake up with the Grim Reaper in her bed. Frank was curled along her back, his big arm thrown over her waist, and his even breaths stirred the hair tangled around her ear. Their hips were aligned perfectly, and she could feel the imprint of his impressive package nestled in the V of her thighs. His big muscled frame gave off so much heat that she was beginning to sweat, and she could feel her pussy grow damp with heat of its own. She cursed the fabric that separated her from his touch. She knew that he was trying to do the right thing by not taking advantage of her, but she had been ready to climb him like a tree halfway through breakfast.

Karen stretched her body against his experimentally, and was rewarded by his arm tightening its grip on her waist and grumble of complaint in her ear. Her lips curled in a Cheshire smile as she carefully eased his tee shirt off over her head and dropped it off the side of the bed. She settled back against his chest, but this time, she moved his hand further up her ribs. She had seen the way Frank looked at her breasts, and she hoped that ease of access would prove too much temptation to resist.

As she waited for Frank to awaken, her mind reeled her back in time to her confrontation with Brady Callahan. She couldn’t remember how long it had taken for Frank to make his way to her door, but it had felt like hours. She had stared into the lifeless eyes of the man on her floor, and had felt nothing but relief that he was dead, and she was not. Frank had saved her life once again. How could she not develop feelings for him? She had made the decision during that eternity of waiting for him. She had decided that she wanted Frank Castle, and she meant to have him.

Karen could feel in her bones that he wanted her, too, but he was holding himself back. She could understand his reluctance to move on from his dead wife, but she honestly didn’t want him to. Karen wanted him to love and remember his family forever, because she wasn’t threatened by that in the least. What she had to offer him was different and new, and there was no need to compare the two. There simply was no competition. She only wanted to add to his heart, not claim it all for herself.

By the time she had opened the door to let him slip inside her apartment, she had decided that Frank needed her, too. He needed a strong partner to temper the blood-thirsty rage that coursed through his veins. He needed a confidante that could strategize with him and could combine resources in order to get shit done. He needed a woman who was passionate and adventurous in bed, but was fearless and ruthless outside of it. Karen was all of those things, and she was exactly what he needed to stabilize him in his new life.

They needed each other.

She also knew that Frank needed a nudge in the right direction. Though Frank was an extremely intelligent tactician, he was also ironically gun-shy about touching her. The first hurdle to get past in securing Frank in her life was sex. In her past experience, there was no quicker way to make that happen than to take off her shirt. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy with Frank. He was stubbornly resistant to the idea of sex right off, so she had settled for sleeping first. She had a feeling that waking to up to a naked woman in his bed could only work to her advantage.

She knew Frank was slowly waking up when he began to stretch and hum in her ear. His big palm slid over the bumps of her ribs, and she held her breath as he unerringly found the curve of her breast and squeezed it lightly in his hand. Her breath gusted back out on a moan as his hips swiveled against her ass and his nose burrowed behind her ear. She knew he was fully awake, though, when his cock swelled along the crack of her ass, and his breathing quickened.

Karen tested the waters by running her hand along his thigh and arching into his hips. He replied by pinching her nipple firmly until a soft cry parted her lips. “I thought I told you to wear a shirt,” he rumbled, his voice raspy and harsh in the darkness of the room.

It was all or nothing, and Karen was in it to win. Taking hold of his hand, she slowly moved it back down the flat plane of her stomach, over her abdomen, and beneath her panties. He did not resist her, and when his fingertips encountered her slick heat, he groaned and took over. Karen gasped and replied, “We’re not sleeping anymore. Now I want you to fuck me.”

His fingers were busy dipping from the well of her arousal before retreating to tease and swirl her clit with practiced mastery, and Karen was quickly losing her mind. “Jesus Christ, Karen,” he swore in her ear. “You don’t need a gun with a mouth like yours.”

Her grip on his wrist tightened, and her hips began to move against the magic of his fingertips. She knew it wouldn’t take much more for her come, because she had been keyed up over him for months already. She could already feel the tension coiling in her abdomen from just his fingers alone, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed him to come with her, but he still wasn’t moving forward.

She reached behind her to find the thick length of his cock, and she squeezed him until he hissed. “Are you really going to make me ask you to fuck me again?”

A rumbling noise like a motorcycle echoed through her ear before Frank moved. Karen quickly found herself on her back while he pulled her soaking panties over her hips. They flew through air over his shoulder, and his own underwear soon followed. Her legs fell open readily as he planted his shoulders between her thighs and dipped his head for a drink. Karen’s back bowed off the bed when his tongue dove boldly inside her channel to feast on her essence before seeking out her clit with his lips.

One hand was holding his head to her, and her other hand gripped the bedsheet for purchase. She was hurtling fast toward the peak, but she didn’t want to come until she had experienced the sensation of Frank Castle claiming her body with his own. She was loathe to disturb his handiwork, but she managed to tug lightly on his hair. “Now, Frank. Come on.”

Reluctantly, he disengaged from his meal and kissed a messy path up her belly until he captured a nipple and pulled it into his mouth. Karen moaned and ran her hands over his broad shoulders before giving him another encouraging tug upward. He finally settled his narrow hips against hers until his thick cock was able to glide through her wetness and across her swollen clit. His breaths were harsh in her ear as he rasped, “I don’t have any condoms, doll. I wasn’t exactly expecting this to happen.”

Karen hooked her feet around his calves and used her leverage to pull him in even closer. “I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I don’t ever want children of my own, Frank. I made that decision a long time ago.”

The last tether on his control snapped, and he shifted his hips until the head of his cock found her entrance. Without hesitation, he sank inside of her with a groaned curse as he buried his face in her neck. Karen’s nails bit into the muscles of his back, and she keened with the sensation of her body stretching to accept him. Just like the rest of him, his cock was almost uncomfortably big, but she relished the dull ache of pressure against the walls of her sex. He bottomed out deep inside her, and he paused to rest his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

The first hurdle had been cleared, and now it was time to finish the race. Lifting her hand to cup his whiskered jaw, she panted, “Now fuck me hard. Make me feel it, Frank.”

Frank’s fingers burrowed through the long locks of her hair until he had her head held firm between his grip. His lips hovered over hers for a breathless moment before he breathed, “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

His hips pulled back, and before she was ready for it, he surged back inside her with a punishing thrust. A shock of pain, followed closely by electric pleasure, shot up her spine, and she cried out his name. He caught it between his lips as he kissed her for the first time, and she could taste her pleasure on his tongue.

He had no mercy on her, and Karen reveled in every possessive thrust of his cock against her cervix. She happily drowned in his rough kiss, and urged him on with throaty cries as her nails scored lines in his back. He broke away from her lips to brace himself on his elbows so he could look down into her eyes as he fucked her hard and deep. He widened his knees to force her legs apart, and further opened her up by hooking an elbow under her knee to allow him to reach deeper. The small room was full of the sound of his hips smacking her ass, her cries upon impact, and his grunts of effort as the muscles in his ass bunched and released beneath her grip.

Though the room was too dark to make out his expression, Karen knew he was close by the tension coiling every muscle in his body, and Karen’s body responded accordingly. Seeing him above her, feeling him inside her, and touching him like she wanted to was what finally sent her over the edge. She threw her head back and wailed as her body lost its battle with reality and fractured into oblivion. Her climax stole her breath with its force, and her voice was hoarse and needy as she chanted “Yes, yes, yes,” and “Frank, Frank, Frank,” over and over again until the sharp-toothed fangs of her pleasure finally began to release her.

As if her orgasm freed him to find his own, Frank snapped his hips hard against the cushion of her ass once, twice, three times before he came with a moaned curse dripping from his lips like honey. His arms trembled, his breath stuttered, and his cock pulsed inside her as he nipped and sucked a path along her jugular. Karen tilted her head to give him better access, closed her eyes, and held on to him until he quit moving and his panting breaths had slowed against her neck.

She floated slowly back into herself as Frank rested his forehead on the pillow next to her ear. His arms gave out, and his weight settled heavily on her. It didn’t matter that he was heavy, or that she was having a hard time catching a full breath, because she never wanted him to leave again. Her hands roamed freely across his back, over the slope of his ass, and back again with possessive boldness. Karen was staking her claim on him, and God help him if he ever failed to come back to her. She would hunt him down and bring him back if she had to, but she planned to give him plenty of incentive to prevent him from ever leaving in the first place.

Frank’s chest rumbled with a satisfied hum before mumbled, “I don’t know about you, but _I_ certainly felt that.”

Karen stretched with feline pleasure beneath the weight of his hips still pinning her to the bed. “God, yes. I won’t be able to walk right for days,” she assured him, her tone dripping with contentment and truth. “I needed that.”

Frank placed a tender kiss in the hollow beneath her ear and confessed raggedly, “Yeah, doll. I did, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Wow. I stayed up like really late to finish this chapter, and I almost didn't make it. Now, I am off to bed so I can recharge. I will be back at it again tomorrow! Hope you enjoyed the culmination of Karen's decision!**


	11. Karen is Horny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Um, so this chapter ended up being really smutty. It's not my fault, I swear. Blame Karen. I tried to get them to talk to each other, but she just wanted to fuck Frank again. Can't say I blame her.**

For the first time in her life, Karen finally understood what all the fuss was about sex. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a healthy libido, because the contents of her Kindle library proved differently. She actually thought about sex all the time, but the reality of it had never quite measured up to the feelings inspired in her by the trashy erotica she consumed in her free time. She’d had several lovers over the course of her adult life, but none of them had ever made her desperate to have them between her legs. Who knew that she had been looking in the wrong direction all these years? She had been pursuing the wrong kind of man.

Frank Castle was big, rough, and feral, and testosterone oozed from his pores. It hadn’t taken long for his image to replace the myriad others that featured in her fantasies, and each time they had met, they only grew more intense. There was something about him that triggered an unknown need in her soul for a partner that was stronger than her. Even Matt hadn’t managed to flip that switch, and he was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. It had taken Frank, dripping with the blood of his enemies, to prove that he was the right man for the job. Sex with him had been even better than her fantasies, and she wanted to do it again as soon as possible.

Frank groaned as he finally extricated himself from Karen’s body to fall next to her on the bed with his eyes closed. She could still hear the rapid rise and fall of his breaths, and his body sheened with a light mist of sweat. Her gaze roamed over the expanse of his naked body greedily in the glow of late afternoon peeking through the blinds. Everywhere she looked, muscles clenched and released, and his skin was painted with tattoos and scars. Frank had the body of a warrior, and Karen wanted to touch every inch of it.  So, that’s what she did.

Her hand trailed over the mounds of his pecs, down the valley between his ribs, and over the ridged bumps of his abdomen. His stomach clenched beneath her touch, but before she could go lower, he snatched her wrist to stop her. Karen glanced up at his face to see him regarding her through barely-cracked eyelids.

“You always this frisky after a nap?” his asked, his voice lazy with a hint of amusement. “Give me a minute, doll. Like I said, I’m only human.”

He tugged on her wrist, and Karen allowed herself to fall across his wide chest. Frank gathered her in close and wrapped his arm around her waist to anchor her in place, and firmly placed her hand safely on the mound of his muscled chest with the unspoken order to behave herself. She settled her ear directly over his heart, and she closed her eyes to listen to the rapid drumming of it. Now that she was settled, Frank relaxed back into his post-climax stupor, and Karen used the opportunity to continue her exploration. She had been skin-starved for so long, and Frank’s body against hers made feel like a glutton. Her freed hand traced the valleys between skin and bone, explored the texture of thick scars and faded battle wounds, and memorized the feel of his small, puckered nipple beneath her fingertip.

She could hear his heartbeat increase its rhythm and he sucked in a breath when she gently pinched his puckered nipple between thumb and fingertip. His hand captured hers once more, and this time, he didn’t let go. “Damn it, woman!” he chastised her with humor lacing his tone. “I’m trying to recover here. It’s called a refractory period for a reason.”

She didn’t want to wait. She wanted him again _now_. Since she couldn’t move her hand, she moved her lips instead. She turned her head to kiss and lick on the hard muscle of his chest before sinking her teeth just enough for him hiss between his teeth. She released her grip and kissed away the sting of her bite with the flat of her tongue. Her voice was muffled when she replied tartly, “I’ve seen you fight and take out a dozen men single-handedly. You’ve got stamina in spades.”

The rumble in his chest sounded like an earthquake beneath her. “Now who’s the one looking for trouble?” he murmured with a dangerous edge to his tone. Her stomach swooped with anticipation when his muscles tensed for action, but he only delivered a warning. “Don’t poke the bear, Karen. You may not like what you get.”

Oh, Karen had no doubt that she would love every bit of what he could dish out. She craved the laser-focused intensity of his mouth on her skin, and the domination of his body claiming hers. He was the only man she trusted to take control of her in bed, because he had already proved that he would keep her safe out of it. She wanted all that power and passion directed at her. She wanted to bask in the glow of his need for her, and it was her pleasure to provide it for him. Her lust for him wasn’t selfless, though. Frank fulfilled her needs, too, and she was greedy for more.

So, she didn’t just poke the bear. She provoked him.

Karen’s smiling lips found the nipple beneath her cheek, and she nipped it carefully between her teeth before licking away the mild sting. The devil on her shoulder made her say, “There’s only one way to find out.”

She lost her breath as Frank’s body moved with fluid strength. In the blink of an eye, Karen found herself on her back with Frank’s thick legs straddling her hips, and her wrists were pinned above her head by one big hand. His other hand cupped and squeezed her breast just the right amount past pleasure and he buried his nose behind her ear to rasp harshly, “Don’t play with me, Karen. I will always win.”

Her hips arched up into his fingers as he abandoned her breast for better hunting grounds. She keened as he boldly plunged two fingers deep inside of her. She was sensitive to touch after his rough claiming, but the dull ache only added to the untamed thrill of his possession. His breaths were harsh in her ear, and his cock grew heavy and thick along her thigh, and she closed her eyes to brace for the coming storm.

“That’s what I’m counting on,” she gasped as his fingers began to move between the swollen, slippery tissues of her sex. “What are you waiting for, Frank? Take the win.”

With a savage snarl, he pulled away from her, and Karen had a moment of doubt that she had pushed him too far, too fast. Her misgivings were squashed when he flipped her over, gripped her by the hipbones, and pulled her ass back into the cradle of his thighs. He knelt between her spread legs, and her face heated with embarrassed arousal as he shaped and squeezed the globes of her ass in his hands. She could feel the solid heat of his cock nestled against the entrance to her eager body.

A needy noise ripped from her throat and she gripped the bedsheet in her hands, but Frank was taking his time. He boldly ran his hands over every exposed part of her body with a proprietary confidence that made her heart pound against the mattress. “Oh, yeah, definitely the heart-shaped,” he muttered beneath his breath as he spread her open to his gaze. Without hesitation, he pushed his thick length between her swollen lips, and sank inside of her with a ragged groan.

“ _Yesss_ ,” she hissed between her gritted teeth as he filled her body to capacity. There was no ignoring the way his cock stretched her open and crowded her womb. She craved to feel him pounding into her. She wanted him to push her over the edge, and she wanted him to make her feel it. She gave an experimental bounce on his length to get him moving, but he was having none of it.

A cry ripped from her throat as he landed a swift smack against her ass and chided her, “You’re not in any position to be bossy with me, doll. I’m calling the shots now.”

To prove his point, he wrapped his hands around the cushion of her hips, and used his leverage to pull himself out with aching slowness. She whimpered when he paused for a long moment before he pushed back inside her with a whispered curse. He continued the tortuous tempo of retreat and advance until Karen thought she would cry from the tension coiling in her center. Each time the head his cock made impact against the end of her channel, a cry of surprise erupted from her throat. His thrusts were controlled and targeted to elicit each response from her, and his fingertips dug bruises into the groove of her hips with the increasing pace and force of his control over her body.

Karen couldn’t think, couldn’t unscramble her thoughts enough to communicate her needs, so she let go and allowed Frank to drive her there at his own pace. His hands moved from their hold on her waist, and he skimmed them down the arch of spine and back as he continued to fuck her with slow, punishing thrusts. Her body was so twisted up with battling emotions that she felt like she would explode, but Frank was not ready to allow it.

“Please, Frank!” her plea was muffled by the pillow as he fucked her deep. “I need more!”

His hands journeyed over her ribs, and he lifted her up until her back was arched against his chest and she was suspended from his lap by his thick cock. Gravity forced her down on his solid length impossibly deeper, and her fingernails bit into the bunched of muscles of his thighs spreading hers apart. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and Frank wrapped one hand territorially around the base of her throat, and the other one slid over abdomen and found her swollen clit. He bit the lobe of her ear, and his breaths were harsh in her ear as he murmured, “Shhh...I got you, Karen. I can give you what you need.”

His hips started moving again, and she was defenseless against his assault on her body. All she could do was to hang on as his fingers played her clit like a high-strung instrument and his cock plunged unimpeded into her tight, slippery channel. His hold on her neck was firm, but gentle, and she felt anchored and protected by his hold on her. It took no time for her body to respond to his possession, and his name escaped her lips with a shout as he drove her ruthlessly to climax. Her muscles cramped with the force of her coming, and a sob wrenched from deep inside her as merciless blades of ecstasy sliced through her guts with a violence that shocked her.

“That’s it,” he crooned in her ear as he continued to plunge into her pulsing center. “That was fucking beautiful, doll. I could watch you come like that all night.”

Karen was glad for his strong hold on her, because she was limp and sated from the climax he had ripped from her. She reached her arm up to twine her fingers in his hair, and replied breathily, “I’m willing to let you.”

He snarled against her shoulder, and his grip on her tightened as his hips began to piston in and out of her with force and speed until he plunged deep enough for her to protest with a cry. He cursed and jerked against her ass as he emptied himself inside her with each clench and release of his muscles, and he bit and sucked marks in the sensitive tendon between her neck and pale shoulder as he rode the wave of his release. Karen’s heart swelled with happiness and pride that she had been the one to drive him to this level of passion, and though her body was sore from his attentions, she already was looking forward to doing it again.

Frank’s breaths gusted hotly across her skin as he continued to pump shallow, lazy thrusts inside her until gravity pulled him out of her. They both moaned in disappointment, but where the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak. Frank lowered her carefully back to the bed, and he crashed face down next to her so that their noses were mere inches apart. He was still breathing heavily, and his eyes were closed as he recuperated from his exertion. Karen’s gaze studied the strong, angular cut of his jaw and thought she had never seen anything in her life that was as sexy as Frank Castle naked in her bed.

Without opening his eyes, Frank mumbled, “Stop looking at me like that. You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

Karen’s lips lifted with a soft smile, and she reached out to brush a caress against his cheekbone. "No, Frank. I will be the life of you.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I tried to warn you guys with the tags and notes at the beginning. I love to write passionate sex, and these two are explosive with each other. Who knew that Karen Page was a freak in the sheets? I was all like, "Dang, girl! Get you some of that!" And she did.
> 
> This chapter took me longer than I expected to write, but I will back at it after a brief pause to make some chili for the fam and to do a load of laundry. I can hardly contain myself from the excitement. Haha! Have a wonderful rest of your day wherever you are in the world, my friends! Big love!**


	12. Frank Takes a Shower

Frank POV

 

Frank stood in the shower with his head bowed, and waited for the steaming needles of water to pummel his tense muscles into relaxing. It wasn’t working, though, because he was not in the shower alone. Karen Page was there with him, in all her naked glory, and she was torturing him by running the bar of soap all over him.

As if they had planned and choreographed it, they had each taken a private moment in the bathroom before Frank had turned the nozzles on the shower and held the curtain for her while she stepped inside. He had joined her in the crowded space, and he had kissed her properly for the first time as the steam from the water billowed in clouds around them. He had chased the peppermint sting of fresh toothpaste on her tongue, and her fingernails had created furrows on his ass as the pipes in the wall groaned along with them. 

Now, the silence between them was thick and charged as she smoothed foamy lather across his shoulders, but neither of them were in a rush to break it. Karen’s hands were small, but surprisingly strong, and his eyes drifted shut with a moan of appreciation as she kneaded and massaged the tense muscles beneath her fingertips. He could feel the rush of dopamine flooding his system and lowering his defenses. Karen Page had that effect on him from their first meeting. Even through the pain and suffering of losing his family, she had stood by him. All he had ever done was hurt her over and over again, but she had never given up on him. He couldn’t understand what she saw in him that made her touch him with such passion, and gift him with the heaven of her body.

“You like that?” she asked, her tone low and teasing as she slipped behind him to work on his back. Frank grunted his response, and she chuckled before continuing, “My college roommate at UVM majored in physical therapy. She taught me all sorts of useful techniques. I’d be happy to show you.”

Frank’s cock was certainly fond of that suggestion. The damn thing seemed to have a mind of its own around her. If his cock were a compass, then she was true north. Something about her triggered instincts in him that he’d thought were dead along with his family. It scared the hell out of him, but he couldn’t seem to walk away from her. Not again.

The past 24 hours had fundamentally changed the rules that he’d lain down for himself in the aftermath of Russo’s capture. He had been given a new name and a clean slate by Homeland Security, and he had grabbed ahold of it with both hands. In the past three months, he had begun to build a new life for himself as Pete Castiglione. He’d gone back to work in construction, attended Curtis’ group regularly, and had kept his guns at home and his head down. He had still listened to the police scanner diligently, though. He had a gut feeling that Murdock wasn’t dead like everyone thought, and he wanted to be ready to greet the do-gooder Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and kill the fucker for breaking Karen’s heart.

Instead of hearing a reported sighting of Daredevil in Hell’s Kitchen, he had heard Karen’s address rattled across the lines in connection to an attempted rape and heroic rescue by an armed female passer-by. He’d known immediately that Karen was involved somehow, and he could only hope that she’d been the one with the gun. It had only taken seconds for three months of living as Pete Castiglione to disappear. In less than four minutes after that, Frank Castle had walked out the door, fully armed, and ready to deal death to anyone who dared harm her.

He had tried to stay away from her, and he had thought that she would be safer without him in her life, but she had proved him wrong. If he hadn’t been waiting on the laundromat roof for Callahan to come back, she would be dead right now. It would have been Frank’s fault, and he would’ve had her blood on his hands along with Maria’s and the kids. Fuck that. He was not going to lose her, too. It was safer for him to be closer to her, not further away, but he didn’t know what he had left to offer her. Parts of him were broken beyond repair, and Karen deserved better than pieces of a man. 

Karen, apparently, didn’t seem to agree. Frank sucked in a ragged breath as her soapy hands skimmed over his hipbones and down the valley of his Adonis belt toward his swollen, aching cock. He knew that if she touched him, he would end up fucking her against the slippery tiled wall, and he didn’t want to get distracted again. Not yet, at any rate.

Frank captured her roaming hands and tucked them safely against his chest, but the action only forced her to smash her wet breasts against the muscled plane of his back. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you? I thought you gave me my walking papers last night.”

He could feel her sucking the water from his skin with her lips before she replied, “You came back, and I’m not letting you leave again.”

Frank turned to face her, and she stepped into his body to wind her arms around his waist. He closed his eyes against the spray of water cascading over them, and he leaned his forehead against hers. It felt different to have Karen in his arms. She was the roughly the same height as him out of shoes, and though she was overtly feminine, it felt more like holding an equal than any other woman had in his past. “I don’t really know what that means, doll. I’m not sure what I have left to give.”

Karen pulled back until her blue eyes locked on his brown ones. Water droplets quivered from her eyelashes, and her lips were swollen with his kiss. “How about you start with buying me dinner? We can figure the rest out later.”

For the first time since that awful day when his life had been destroyed in a hail of bullets, Frank felt a spark of hope for the future kindle in his gut. He cupped her face in his hand, and she leaned into his caress and closed her eyes. His thumb swept across her bottom lip as he studied her intently. She was so strong and beautiful, determined and stubborn, and she was sexy as hell, too. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to take her back home and disappear again, but he was too selfish to let her go. Karen deserved a good, law-abiding man that would give her stability and support. All Frank could give her was blood, pain, and death. He could only pray that it wasn’t hers.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he murmured softly as he traced the curve of her cheek.

Her eyes popped open, and wicked smile quirked her lips. Her hands journeyed down his back to cup and squeeze his ass as she replied with a raised eyebrow, “I have a few suggestions.”

Frank laughed and swooped in to suck and nip at her smiling lips. “Yeah, I just bet you do. How about we finish this shower and get something to eat first, and then you can tell me all about it.”

***********

An hour later, they were both dressed and ready to head out into the dark New York streets in search of food. Frank armed himself with two knives, a pistol in his ankle holster, and his trusty Kimber Warrior in a shoulder holster, but it didn’t feel like enough. As Karen walked out of the bedroom with her purse over shoulder, he remembered the Glock she’d placed there last night.

“Hey, let me see your gun,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly.

Without protest, Karen retrieved the weapon and placed it in his hand. He popped the magazine, loaded the missing bullet, slipped the magazine back in the butt, and racked a round into the chamber. He looked it over carefully, and frowned. It wasn’t a bad piece, but he preferred the Llama .380 she had carried before it was lost during the confrontation at the hotel with Lewis.

“Where’d you pick this up? It doesn’t look new,” he asked as he handed the gun back to her butt-first.

Karen checked the safety carefully before putting it back in her purse. “It’s not. I bought it from Mrs. Zielmanski, my landlady. She upgraded to a Desert Eagle .50 handgun, so I got her old one for a good price.”

Frank snorted and shook his head. “Jesus, I hope she knows how to use it. What about you? You comfortable with that weapon? When’s the last time you cleaned it?”

Karen shot him a withering look and retorted, “Apparently, I was comfortable enough to use it last night, and I just cleaned it last week after a visit to the gun range.”

Frank held his hands up in surrender and back-peddled quickly. “Just making sure. You won’t use a weapon that doesn’t feel right in your hand.”

Karen unplugged her phone from the charger and stuck it in the pocket of her coat as she walked past him to the door. “I guess you’re just going to have to teach me all of them, then.” She opened the door and waited patiently for him to follow her. “So, Italian, right? I’m starved.”

Frank’s eyebrows winged up his forehead, and he adjusted his erection to a more comfortable angle. There was something very wrong with him that the thought of Karen shooting a gun would make him hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I can definitely do that,” he assured her with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **What up, friends?! So, here's the thing. I'm kinda feeling like this story has come to an end, but I'm just now starting to get a feel for the characters, and I want to keep going. I decided to take a poll. 
> 
> Should I:  
> A. Keep writing the story and focus on their relationship (i.e., hot sex) for several more chapters
> 
> Or....  
> B. Make this a series, end this story, and start the next part
> 
> As my ex-husband would say, I'm easy and could go either way. Just curious on what you guys think. Thanks for all the kudos and comments! I'm having a blast chatting with you guys, and you've been amazing! Have a wonderful day, my friends!**


	13. Frank Plays Pool

Frank’s POV

What had started out as just dinner had ended up turning into drinks at Josie’s Bar. Dinner with Karen had been an experience, and he found that he didn’t want the night to end. She was bright, witty, shy, brave, and scarily intelligent all at once, and he felt dazzled by her. He found himself teasing her and saying dirty shit just to make her blush and laugh, and he had even provoked her enough to throw a breadstick at his head. It was the best time he’d had in what felt like a hundred years, and the only thing that could make it better was alcohol.

As he held the door open for her to walk inside the bar, he said, “You act like you been here before. You know Josie’s?”

A sad smile tipped her lips, but didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I used to come here all the time with Foggy and Matt before...well, before everything.”

Frank allowed the door to close before she could walk through it.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why didn’t you say something about this when I suggested it? I wouldn’t have brought you here if I knew it was gonna put that look on your face.”

She sighed and gripped the handle on the door. “Frank, it’s fine. I love Josie’s Bar, and she always gives me free quarters to put in the pool table.”

She started to pull the door open, but Frank slammed it shut and applied pressure to keep it that way. “No, it’s not fine. Be straight with me, Karen. Is it gonna hurt you to go in there? If so, we’re going somewhere else.”

Karen’s fingers reached out to take his arm, and she squeezed him gently. “Of course, it hurts. Matt and Foggy are my family, and I lost them. Foggy is a busy lawyer with a hot girlfriend, and Matt is dead.” She paused, and he could see her throat moving before she added, “But, my memories of them here were all good, and I don’t want to lose that. Plus, I would really like to make some new ones with you.”

Frank’s ribs protested as his heart tried to escape its prison in his chest. He ignored the drunken patron struggling to open the door from the inside, and said, “Hey, your family isn’t gone, doll. I bet if you picked up the phone right now, Nelson would be at your side in a heartbeat. As for Murdock? Come on, Karen. He ain’t dead. He’ll show up any day now, and when he does, I’m going to beat the shit out of him for making you cry.”

Her chuckle was wet with tears, and she reached up to wipe them away as she replied, “What makes you so sure that Matt isn’t dead? Jessica, Luke Cage, and Danny Rand all confirmed that he didn’t make it out of that pit. It’s been months, Frank. He’s not coming back.”

He reached out with his free hand and brushed away the fresh tears spilling over her cheeks. “I feel it in my gut. I may not like the guy, but I respect the hell out of him because he’s a fighter and a protector. People like me and Red may die, doll, but we don’t stay that way. He’s coming back.”

He saw the moment when she believed him, because the blue flames in her eyes grew bright enough to blind him. Her body crashed into his chest, and he returned her spontaneous embrace with one arm. “Thank you, Frank,” she breathed into his neck. “I just... _thank you_.”

Frank’s arm tightened around her waist, and he stiffened. He didn’t want her fucking gratitude. He especially didn’t want it for telling her that Murdock was still alive. She had never said much about her relationship with the blind lawyer, but he remembered that she’d had feelings for him. Frank also knew that Murdock had feelings for someone else. He didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that it hadn’t ended well for her, and that Murdock had hurt her. Yet another thing he and Red had in common.

The only thing he could do now, though, was buy her a drink. “Come on, that’s enough of that,” Frank chastised her mildly as the drunk guy from inside the bar cussed and pushed at the door. “What’s Josie gonna think of me if we walk in there and you’re bawling your eyes out, huh? She’ll probably spit in my drink.”

Karen disengaged from him, and she gave a watery laugh. “With the rotgut that she serves, it would be an improvement.”

Frank opened the door suddenly, and the drunken patron stumbled out into the street. Frank held the door for Karen to walk inside as he barked at the man, “What’s the matter with you? Couldn’t you see we were having a moment here? Fucking asshole.”

The man was at least smart enough to make tracks, and Frank followed Karen inside. He had a new mission to accomplish now. He needed to put the smile back on her face, and the laughter back in her gorgeous blue eyes. The fastest way to achieve both was with alcohol. Plenty of alcohol.

************

Two hours later, Frank found himself in the midst of a fierce competition. Josie had grudgingly served them the good alcohol, and he had watched in amazement as Karen matched him drink for drink. When  a pool table had come open, Karen had wheedled a handful of quarters from the cranky bartender, and challenged him to a game.

Karen, Frank soon discovered, was a sneaky and conniving pool shark. When she had offered up a cash prize for best three out of five, Frank had scoffed and promised her that she would pay. He’d been playing pool for years, and there was no way that a civilian from Vermont could best him. After she had handily trounced him on the first game, though, he’d had no choice but to get serious about winning.

Between the strong liquor, loud music, and raucous noise from the crowd, Karen was feeling no pain. In fact, her laughter peeled like bells across the small bar as Frank cursed when she won the second game by sinking the 8-ball with a bank shot. That was when he decided to play dirty.

He stood behind her as she leaned over the table to rack up the balls, and he couldn’t help but admire the view. Karen’s ass was a thing of beauty, but encased in a tight pair of jeans, it was enough to make a grown man cry. For Frank, it was enough to make him hard and aching. When she bent down to eye level make sure the triangle was lined up, he moved in behind her and caged her in with his hips and arms. She gasped when he pushed his hard length into the cushion of her ass, and her grip on the triangle faltered to knock out the alignment of the balls.

“You need some help with that, doll?” Frank asked smugly, reaching around her to move the triangle back into place.

Karen glanced over shoulder at him with a sultry look before she purposely rotated her hips against his in revenge. Frank breathed a curse, and she flashed a wicked grin before lifting and flipping the plastic triangle away from the balls. Ducking under his arm, she made her escape as she replied tartly, “I’m not the one having problems controlling my stick. Your break.”

He shook his head at her brass, and silently admitted that she was winning more than just the game. Instead of giving up, though, he grew even more determined to win. The balls broke beautifully under his cue, and he sank five solids before it was her turn. Taking a page from his book, Karen turned up the heat by brushing against him every opportunity she got and bending low over the table to sink her shots so that the mounds of her creamy breasts were visible through the collar of her shirt. Frank refused to be distracted, much, and managed to win their third game.

By the time he had won the forth game, they were both in bad shape. Frank’s hands were on Karen more than on his cue, and her hands had managed to find their way beneath his shirt. Before they could begin the tie-breaker game, though, Josie yelled across the crowded bar, “Hey! Go get a room, you two! I’m sick of watching your foreplay, and you’re starting to make Gerald horny.”

A weathered old man, presumably Gerald, shouted out, “Let ‘em stay, Josie! I’m enjoying the show!”

Karen hid her flaming face against Frank’s chest, but her shoulders shook with humor. Her voice was muffled when she said, “I guess we can call this one a draw.”

Frank snorted and tossed his cue on the empty pool table before escorting her to their table to gather their coats as Gerald groaned loudly in disappointment. On their way out the door, Frank slipped a $20 in Josie’s tip jar, and good-naturedly flipped Gerald the bird. Before they could exit the bar, though, Josie called out, “Good to have you back, blondie. Don’t be a stranger.”

Karen offered her a breathtaking smile and replied, “Thanks, Josie. We’ll be back soon.”

Even though the temperature was frigid, the streets of Hell’s Kitchen were bustling with Saturday night revelry. Karen’s arm slipped around his waist, and his arm fell across her back as they began walking in perfect sychronicity with each other.

“Where you want to go next, doll?” Frank asked. He really wanted to take her back home and pin her to the wall with his cock, but he was a fucking gentleman.

Karen’s breaths made clouds in the air as she replied, “My place. It’s closer, and I have a bigger bed.”

Frank’s cock grew harder, and his steps grew faster, and he answered her with a laugh, “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WOW! Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on my poll! Due to overwhelming consensus, I have decided to add a few more chapters to this story, and then begin a second part. I have a lot of great ideas rolling around in my head, and they begin with Karen's statement, "Jessica and I have drinks on Thursdays." Have no fear, though! The last chapter will be filled with smutty goodness to tide you crazy kids over until I start the next one. As you can tell, I write fast, so it won't be too long between stories, but I do have to travel this weekend to witness my precious niece get married. Maybe there's still hope I can talk her out of it, but probably not. Anyway, thank you again for all the awesome support and encouragement. You guys are the icing on my cupcake.**


	14. Karen Gets Her Some

Karen really didn’t want to go back to her place. She wanted to go back to Frank’s place, and that was the problem.

Last night hadn’t been the first time that her sanctuary had been invaded and defiled, and it got harder for her to rebuild her sense of security each time it happened. She prided herself on her hard-won independence, but assholes with weapons kept trying to take it away from her. She was nothing if not stubborn, though, and she had doggedly moved on with her life, and had started over again each time. Karen was afraid all the fucking time, but that did not stop her from living her life on her own terms.

She knew she needed to reclaim her space and confront her fear, but every cell in her body cried out for her to go back to Frank’s place and never leave again. Karen knew with bone-deep certainty that she was safe with him, and that was a problem, because she couldn’t stay with him. Frank was not in the right headspace yet to even acknowledge that they were starting a relationship much less living together. The loss of his family was still a raw wound, so she had to ease him into it slowly. She had no choice but to give him space and follow his cues.

Thankfully, he had made it more than clear over the past several hours that he was interested in spending another night with her, so she seized the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. She would go back to her apartment and reclaim her life, but she would have Frank there with her. She could spend the first night there with him, and maybe the next night by herself wouldn’t be so hard. It was worth a shot.

By the time they reached her apartment door, though, her courage faltered. Her hand shook as she tried fruitlessly to fit the key into the deadbolt lock. Frank was a silent observer at her back, but when she missed for the third time, he reached out to take her hand. He guided the key to the lock, and held her hand steady until she stopped shaking.

“Open the fucking door, Karen,” he ordered her gently. “You’ve got this.”

Without hesitation, she slid the key home and turned the lock. The door opened, and she stepped inside with Frank right behind her. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it looked no different than usual. Brady Callahan’s lifeless body wasn’t lying on her floor, and there was no trace or stain of blood to be seen. Her gaze roamed over the great room and she searched for any sign that he had ever been there to begin with, but it was like it had never happened. She experienced none of the expected fear or guilt. She only felt satisfaction that she would never have to worry about his existence again.

Frank closed and locked the door, hung his coat and shrugged out of his shoulder holster as she stood there motionless. “How you holding up over there, doll? Talk to me,” Frank demanded as he began shedding weapons and the contents of his pockets like a second skin.

Karen placed her purse on the table and shrugged out of her coat before tossing it across a chair. “Honestly, I’m a lot better than I expected.” She walked over to where Frank was sitting on the couch as he unfastened his ankle holster. She pushed his shoulder gently until he was leaning back and carefully straddled his lap. “I bet I could be even better, though.”

Frank’s hands found their way to the cushion of her ass, and he pulled her forward until she was pressed against his hardness. Karen’s hands trailed over his wide shoulders and her fingers found purchase in his short hair. His dark eyes were heavy-lidded as he watched her like a hawk watches prey. “Yeah?” he drawled lazily. “Anything I could do to help?”

Karen’s hips swiveled so that her sensitive core rubbed against his hard length. She hummed in her throat as he hissed and squeezed her ass, and she could feel her pussy growing wet and swollen for him. She lowered her head until their lips were a breath apart and whispered, “Give me something else to think about, Frank. Make me forget.”

He answered her by hooking his hand behind her neck to pull her the rest of the way down to his lips. He held her in place as he surged into her mouth with tongue and teeth, and a desperate noise escaped her throat as she gave herself over to his mastery. His hands were like firebrands against her skin, and she felt both powerful and weak with the dangerous vigilante between her thighs. Frank kissed her until she was needy and breathless before he finally released her from his spell.

His breaths were harsh against her neck, as he rasped, “God damn, you make me crazy, woman. If you knew half the things I wanted to do to you, you would run.”

Karen’s stomach swooped with excitement, and she gripped handfuls of his shirt to pull it over his head and tossed it behind her. Their eyes locked, brilliant blue to inky black, and she said boldly, “I’m not going anywhere, and I _want_ you, Frank. Find out for yourself just how much.”

Frank growled low in his chest, and Karen squealed as he stood to his feet without letting her go. Her arms and legs wound around his shoulders and waist, and he braced her weight with his hands on her ass as he walked them down the short hallway toward her bedroom. He stopped next to her bed and set her gently on her feet before leaning in to press a slow, erotic kiss to his lips. When he pulled back, he said, “I suggest you get busy taking your clothes off, because if I do it, there won’t be nothing but scraps left by the time I’m done.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Like a whirling dervish, Karen raced to take off her ankle boots, socks, jeans, sweater, bra, and panties. Seconds later, she was wearing nothing but a smile while he was still sitting on the bed’s edge and taking off his boots and socks. When she stood in front of him completely naked, he forgot about shedding his jeans, and instead reached out for her hand and pulled her between his spread thighs. He brushed the tips of his knuckles across her breast, and his gaze catalogued her most intimate parts with an intensity that spoke of possession.

His voice was hoarse and deep when he said, “You’re a god damn miracle, Karen. You deserve better than me.”

Karen’s heart pounded, her breasts grew heavy, and her core melted and opened. “There is _no one_ better than you for me, Frank.”

Without reply, he stood to his feet, gripped her by the waist, and sat her down on the edge of the bed so they traded places. Karen watched him quizzically as he dropped to his knees in front of her. “Lay back and enjoy the ride, doll. I need another taste.”

She could feel the heat of her blush rage up her neck and over her cheeks like a wildfire, but she followed his directions without hestiation. Frank’s hands trailed up the inside of her thighs as he spread them further apart, and his fingers combed through the strawberry-blonde curls that crowned her sex. Her breath caught in her throat and she arched her hips into his touch, but he was in no hurry to sate her desperation.

His fingers were gentle on her sensitive flesh as he dipped inside to steal her essence. “I was pretty rough on you earlier. You sore at all?”

Karen’s breath shuddered out on a sigh as he slipped two fingers inside of her while his thumb ran tender circles around her clit. “A little, but I like it.”

His full lips quirked with a satisfied smirk and he leaned in until she could feel his hot breath wash across her pussy. “Then you’re going to love this.”

A ragged moan tore from her throat as he swiped the flat of his tongue across her center. Her fingers ran across his short dark hair as he began to feast on her pussy and clit with a hunger that ignited her simmering desire. Even as his tongue and lips tortured her with heat, his fingers pumped in and out of her channel with firm, gliding thrusts until she thought she would go insane from the pressure of her building climax.

“Oh!” she cried out with surprise when he curled his fingers toward the front of her vagina and pressed firmly as his tongue lashed her swollen clit. “Frank, God! What are you doing?” she gasped as her abdomen coiled with building pressure.

Instead of replying, he redoubled his efforts, and her eyes slammed shut as he forced her body to respond to him. Karen had never felt anything like the mounting pleasure growing inside of her, and her eyes closed to concentrate on the sensations. Her orgasm took her by surprise with an explosion of ecstasy that resonated throughout her entire body and had her back arching off the bed as if he had pulled her strings like a puppetmaster. She knew her neighbors could hear her cries, but she didn’t care. She was too busy trembling and shaking beneath Frank’s lips.

“Enough, Frank!” she begged as he coaxed another shockwave through her system. She pushed on his forehead until he released her, and she collapsed back on the bed to recover her sanity. Frank sat back on his heels and ran a big palm over his mouth as he surveyed his handiwork.

Karen’s chest heaved with exertion, but she watched him through heavy eyelids as he stood back up to his full height. God, he was so fucking handsome with his defined muscles and wicked scars. She wanted to see the rest of him, too. It was her turn to drive him crazy.

She peeled her back off the bed until she was sitting up once more, and she brushed his hands away from the button on his jeans. She looked up into his eyes and offered him a sly smile. “Let me do it. I want a taste, too.”

His abs constricted beneath the brush of her knuckles as she unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper before pushing the denim past his ass. His cock made an obscene display confined behind the tight cotton of his boxer briefs, and she ran her hand boldly over it before she lost her patience and peeled his underwear down, too.

Frank stepped out of the pile around his feet, and he breathed a curse when Karen gripped his thick length in one hand and cupped his sack with the other. “Easy there, doll,” he rumbled. “I’m can’t take much right now.”

Karen leaned in to swipe her tongue across the leaking tip of his cock and hummed as his flavor detonated in her mouth. He tasted of salt, soap, and sex. She flashed her eyes at him and quipped, “Hold my hair back for me, would you?”

Without waiting for his reply, she lowered her mouth to him again, but this time, she took him deep and sucked. “ _Fuck_ _me_ ,” he groaned as his hands gathered her long blonde hair in one fist. She took him at his word, and she fucked him with her mouth and her hands. Karen loved to go down on a man. She enjoyed the power she wielded to drive a man to the brink, but with Frank, there was an added thrill of domination as he guided her gently by his grip on her hair.

He was definitely the biggest  she’d ever had, too. His cock had to be at least nine inches long, and thick enough that her fingers couldn’t touch when she stroked him. She took pride in the fact that she could usually take a man down her throat, but it was impossible for her accomplish with him. She was lucky to get halfway down his length before she gagged, so she had to get creative with her tongue and hands, too.

After about five minutes of her attentions, though, he’d had enough. He tugged on her hair to get her to disengage, and his chest was heaving for breath and his thigh muscles shook with tension. He reached down to wipe away the moisture pooled on her bottom lip, and said, “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Karen’s chuckle was throaty and seductive before she replied, “Lay down on the bed and I’ll give you another one.”

He didn’t hesitate, and when his long, muscled frame was stretched out across her bed, she straddled his hips once more. She could feel his hard cock jumping and searching for her wetness, so she braced herself on her knees and reached behind her to hold him steady as she sank down over him with a moan of pleasure. Her fingernails dug into the tensed muscles of his stomach as her body stretched to accommodate the intrusion, and when her ass was flush with his thighs, she whimpered at the fullness she could feel behind her belly button.

“Jesus, Karen, look at you,” he breathed as he gave an experimental thrust. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Her body flushed with waves of heat as she began to move over top of him. His hands ran up and down the length of her thighs as she fucked him with slow, leisurely strokes. Their eyes locked in the dim light of the room, and her hips began to move faster. She relished each impact of his cock at the end of her, and she loved the intensity of his expression as he gripped her hips to plow her harder. Frank had it all wrong. She wasn’t the beautiful one; he was.

Karen closed her eyes and tipped her head back so that her hair fell down her back in a waterfall. She could feel her walls squeezing him tight, and each pulse wound her tighter as she luxuriated in the feel of him beneath her ass and between her thighs. Sex with Frank was her new favorite dessert, and she could happily gorge on him over and over again. She wanted him to consume her and control her in bed, because she trusted him like no one else on earth. He would never do anything to hurt her again.

She could tell he was getting close, because his thrusts were getting harder and sharper, and she could feel his cock swell impossibly bigger inside her. The pad of his thumb found her clit, and each time she rose and fell on his length, he brushed across her sensitive bud until she faltered in her rhythm. The hand still on her hip continued to guide her toward release, and he pressed against her clit until she cried out, “Frank!”

Her vision blacked at the edges and she tumbled head first into orgasm. This time, though, he didn’t ease her through it. Even as her pussy contracted and released with her climax, Frank pulled her down to his chest and locked his arms around her waist before slamming himself into her over and over again. Karen screamed into his neck as he pounded her relentlessly, and her orgasm peaked once more before he cursed, buried himself deep, and came with racking shudders.

She had no idea how long they lay there entwined with sweat drying along their skin and hearts knocking on each other’s ribs. All she knew was that she was exhausted and sated in a way that brought her peace and contentment. She sighed and kissed the skin of his neck beneath her lips as he ran his big hands up and down her back with soothing heat. She never wanted to move again. She wanted to stay right where she was forever.

The comfortable silence between them was broken by Frank. “Can I ask you personal question, doll?”

She smiled against his neck and stretched her legs out so she was laying completely on top of him. “Considering that we’re in a very personal position right now, I don’t see why not.”

He didn’t ask right away, and it made her nervous. After a few long moments, he finally said, “You still got feelings for Murdock?”

For some reason, the question took her by surprise. She was expecting him to ask her about sex or former lovers, but not Matt. They had never even been on more than one date, much less had sex with each other. Still, she wanted to answer his question as honestly as possible. “I have a lot of different feelings for Matt Murdock. I respect him, care about him, worry about him, and want him to be happy. He’s my friend, but any other feelings I had for him were destroyed before they could even get started.”

Frank hummed non-committally, and Karen worried about what he was thinking. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about what she felt for either of them, but she also didn’t want to scare him off with weighty declarations.

She got an idea. Bracing herself on her hands, she looked down into his handsome face and said, “Ask me what I’m binge-watching on Netflix right now.”

His eyebrows crinkled with confusion, but he humored her. “Alright, then. What are you watching on Netflix right now, doll?”

A wide grin stretched across her face and she replied, “It’s a superhero show called ‘The Flash.’ It’s about a cute guy that works in law enforcement by day, but wears a red suit at night to fight crime. He’s a great character, but he’s not my favorite.” His gaze was wary and he didn’t seem to know where she was going with this, so she added, “Now, ask me who my favorite character is on the show.”

He shook his head and chuckled, but he gamely asked, “Who’s your favorite character on the show?”

Karen reached out to trace his eyebrows and brush his hair away from his eyes as she replied, “My favorite character is Leonard Snart. He starts out as a villain with a gun, but he quickly turns into an antihero that shows up to help the guy in red defeat his enemies. He’s incredibly smart, good with weapons, and sexy as hell. He’s much more interesting and intriguing than the hero in red.”

Frank’s lips twitched, and he grudgingly said, “Sounds like a good show, but I think the Snart guy deserves his own. I would watch the hell out of that.”

Karen laughed and eased herself off his chest until she was able to lay beside him on the bed. She curled into his side, and replied, “We can watch it together sometime this week, if you want to. Or, we can just pretend to watch it and fuck instead.”

Frank pulled her in closer to his body, and closed his eyes. “I like the sound of that. What day works best for you?”

Karen’s heart gave a jump of hope, and she replied lightly, “Any night is usually good for me, except for Thursdays. I meet a friend for drinks that night.”

Frank’s voice was heavy with sleep when he answered, “That’s good, cuz that’s the night Curtis’ group meets. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Karen listened as his breathing grew deeper until a light snore passed between his lips. She leaned up to place a gentle kiss against his cheek and whispered, “We’ll figure it out together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Waaaaah! This story is over! However, I will begin part two early next week! Have no fear, friends! I will be back with more blood, death, sex, and all the feels soon.
> 
> I can't thank you guys enough for the warm welcome, support, encouragement, and kind words that you have all shared with me! Y'all are WICKED AWESOME! I hope you guys stick with me and come back for part two. I love to chat with you all!
> 
> Have a wonderful weekend! I will be busy being my sister's bitch as she orders me around to decorate the reception hall, crying buckets over my beautiful niece's wedding, and celebrating Christmas with my bestie who shall not be named because the government doesn't need to know her business. Peace, love, and kindness, my friends!**


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